


One More Grave In This Town

by Halite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dark fic, Demon-Stiles, Humor, M/M, Mind Games, Pack Feels, Post season 3a, Rape/Non-con Elements, SPN elements (no characters), Slow Build, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halite/pseuds/Halite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hasn't felt right since the eclipse.  There's the sleepwalking, the memory loss, and on top of that the uncontrollable bursts of anger.  All three are putting pressure on his relationships and he can't quite get his words right to fix them.  When Derek returns to Beacon Hills he knows there's something off about the way everyone is acting around Stiles.  But it's hard to put his finger on exactly what is wrong, especially when he's too busy putting his fingers all over Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sharp pains bubbled across his skin. Starting from his chest and slowly crawling out. Down his arms, his legs. Stretching to his fingers and toes. His body was on fire, but all he could see was black. He was burning from the inside, and even as he opened his mouth to scream he choked on smoke.

Stiles lunged upright in his bed as he gasped for air. Sweat beaded his body. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his damp sheets stuck to his skin. Releasing the death grip he held on his blanket, he pushed the hair from his face and rubbed his eyes.

The dreams had started weeks ago. One or two at first, but they had gotten steadily worse. Every night for the past week Stiles had woken from the same nightmare with the feeling that he had been choking. Unable to breathe with smoke caught in his throat.

A thin coating of sweat cooled on his body and goose bumps broke out on his skin. In the dream he’d been on fire, now that he was awake and drenched in sweat he was freezing.

Wide awake, but still exhausted, Stiles kicked the sheets off and pushed off the bed. He padded across his bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom, noting his father’s empty room on the way by.

It had been two months since the Sheriff had found out about the werewolves running ramped in Beacon Hills. Ever since, his father had been working more night shifts than not. The result was his father at home while Stiles was at school and left an empty house by the time Stiles got home. Twice a week he’d bring supper to the station. They’d talk, and then Stiles would get gently shooed out.

With a heavy, tired sigh Stiles flicked on the bathroom light. He looked like he felt – shit. Leaning across the counter he peered into the mirror and pulled the skin down below his eyes with his fingertips. He’s popped more than a few blood vessels straining in his sleep. Absently wondering if that was normal he pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his boxers down. Three things would make him feel better: a shower, too much coffee, and Advil.

 

There was no way his day could get any worse, that he was sure of. Up until second period English when he got back his paper. Stiles stalked out of class the second the bell rang with Scott beside him.

“It’s not that bad, Stiles.”

“Not that bad?” Stiles choked. “Are you kidding me? It’s a C. That’s a two letter grade difference! It’s like giving me a veggie pizza when I clearly ordered a meat lovers! This was a perfect paper. I researched it for almost two weeks. So yes, Scott, it is that bad.”

With how little sleep he’d been getting, Stiles had had more than enough extra time in the early hours of the day to work on the damn paper.

“You’re being too hard on yourself.” They stopped at their lockers. Scott looked over at him, flicking through his combination without even glancing at the lock.

Stiles, the not-werewolf, had to try three times before his lock clicked open. “Being too hard on myself would be expecting better than I already am, and being upset when I can’t.” He shoved his English books into the tight, metal space and tried to grab his math text that was stuck between all the others. “This is a realistic reaction to getting a shitty grade when that’s not – “ He yanked the math book out and the rest of his books tumbled out with it, spilling out onto the ground. “Me.”

Waiting a beat, he took in a deep breath, holding back the urge to throw his math book down the hall, before he crouched down to gather the rest of his books. Scott knelt down beside him and grabbed a couple.

“Is this about your paper, or something else?”

They stood together. Stiles piled the books in his hands back in the locker and took the ones Scott offered. “What else would it be about?”

All he got from Scott was a half shrug as he turned back to his locker.

“No, no, no, you don’t get to do that.” He grabbed Scott’s shoulder and forced him to turn back around. “Do I look like something else is bothering me?”

“Well,” Scott motioned towards Stiles’ eyes. “You mean besides how tired you look? Or how much caffeine you’ve been chugging? Or the weird heartbeat you seem to have going on lately?”

It wasn’t like Stiles could exactly hide how worn down he was getting, but it was the first time Scott had brought it up. “Are you monitoring me now?” Stiles frowned. “Stop monitoring me. Stop listening to my heartbeat. It’s creepy.”

“It’s not like I can help it, Stiles. Derek said – “

At the mention of Derek’s name, Stiles threw his hands up. “I don’t care what Derek said! Derek’s not here. He left, Scott.” That fact probably hurt more than it should have, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud. “He left you to deal with being a werewolf all on your own. As if there’s some kind of handbook you can read up on to know all the weird shit that’s gonna happen to you.”

Scott rolled his eyes. It was obvious that he was used to the outburst when he brought up Derek Hale. “Peter’s still here.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh. “Let’s all trust Peter again because he seems sane enough. That sounds like a good band wagon to jump on.”

The slamming of Scott’s locker caused Stiles to flinch. “Look, I was just trying to help you, alright? I don’t need you jumping down my throat about it.” He grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder as he turned and started walking to their next class.

It wasn’t very often Stiles was capable of pissing Scott off, but when he did, he did a mighty fine job of it. He shut his locker with a huff and ran after Scott to bump his shoulder. “I’m sorry, buddy. I am tired. Really tired. I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Scott waited a beat before answering. When he did, his voice was soft again. All forgiven. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged. “If I knew, I wouldn’t still be having problems.”

The class was nearly full when they finally entered. “Is your dad still working nights?”

“Yeah.” They slid into their seats and Stiles turned to face Scott. “Speaking of…”

“No, we’re not speaking of.” Scott gave him what Stiles had begun to refer to as his Alpha-look. The look that was supposed to end conversations. Except Stiles wasn’t a wolf and Scott knew the look did nothing to him. “You can have him if you want a dad around so much.”

“Doesn’t he have a job to get back to?”

Scott groaned. “I have no idea, but he’s everywhere. And I just want him to leave again.” A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining to you about having my dad around so much.”

“Whoa, let’s not even get into how that comparison died before it even had a first breath. Your dad had his chance, and he took off. Complain away.”

“No.” Grabbing the front of his desk, Scott pulled himself up to lean across it, closer to Stiles. “Tell me what’s up with your dad.”

“Maybe I’m just worried about him. We haven’t really talked about the whole,” He looked around, then back at Scott. “You know, incident.”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

“Because, you know my dad, he’s all about internalizing.” There was more to it than that, but if Stiles told Scott that he was worried about his dad withdrawing anymore from him, he knew exactly what Scott would say. His dad wouldn’t do that. And somewhere deep down Stiles knew that too.

Their teacher walked into the class and Stiles moved to turn back around, but Scott grabbed his shoulder. “Talk to him, Stiles.”

With a slight nod, Stiles turned and attempted to pay attention.

 

After school Stiles had gotten home to an empty house. He wasn’t surprised. With no homework to do and it being Scott and his mother’s night alone for supper without his father, Stiles busied himself by cleaning the kitchen for the fifteenth time since the beginning of the week. Cleaning kept his hands busy, but it did nothing to stop his frantic mind from going over everything that had happened in the past year.  

If they’d only been faster. Smarter. If he could have figured things out sooner. If Derek hadn’t let Jennifer so far into their lives. And that’s always what it came down to. Derek. He’d been the one to give the Nemeton power in the first place. The one to give Jennifer exactly what she needed to go after the Alpha pack.

And it was thoughts like that that made Stiles feel like he was losing his mind. Derek had been just a kid, younger than him and Scott, when he’d made a mistake. _A mistake_. There was absolutely no logic in putting blame on Derek. What had happened, had happened, and he should be grateful that Jennifer had been stopped before she’d hurt anyone else.

So instead of staying at home for the night, by himself, again, where his thoughts would only get worse, Stiles had jumped into the jeep and headed to pick up Chinese. Maybe Scott had been right, and talking with his dad would make it easier for him to sleep. Maybe it was really just worry that had him waking up with the sweats, as though he’d been having a panic attack in his sleep.

Sheriff Stilinski was exactly where he was every time Stiles went to visit him; sitting at his desk, looking just as tired as Stiles. He didn’t even hear Stiles knock at the door, and didn’t look up until Stiles spoke.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, kiddo.” His dad looked up with a start. “Is it Thursday already?” He joked. Stiles responded with a half-smile, and his dad stood, waving a hand. “Come on in.”

Now that he was actually standing in the same room with his dad, Stiles felt a wave of self-doubt. He shut the door with a swift kick of his foot and pasted a smile on his face. Fake confidence would eventually lead to real confidence. That’s what he told himself.

On the drive over, Stiles had gone through exactly how he would approach the subject of werewolves. He’d start off slow, and gently work his way up to things. Setting the bag of Chinese on the table, his dad pulled out the food and set it on the space on his desk that he’d cleaned off.

“Find anymore dead bodies lately that turned out to be werewolves?” He’d never been one for subtle. The faltering of his father’s hands had Stiles kicking himself about not sticking to his plan. “What I mean is, uh, you’ve been working awful hard lately, and you look really tired, and normally that only happens when you’re pulling out all the cop tricks to solve a horrific crime, and, oh god, please stop me.”

Through his whole rant his father’s face went from shocked to concerned to annoyed and finally landed on something that resembled exasperated. “Sit down, Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Once he was seated, the Sheriff rounded the desk and leaned on it in front of Stiles with his arms crossed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, because three months ago, I would have sworn there was no way for you to get any more jittery than you usually are.”

Stiles leaned back in his chair and looked up at his father. “I don’t suppose you would know what’s gotten into me lately since you haven’t been around the past two months.”

“Excuse me?”

That made two of them. He’d meant to say something about mixing caffeine and Adderall, and had no idea where the bitterness in his tone had come from. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I came here to say.”

His father’s chest heaved on a sigh, and between the options of scolding Stiles or accepting the apology he opted for the latter. “What did you come here to say?”

“Can’t I just bring my old man some supper without an ulterior motive?”

“Stiles.”

“I’m worried about you. Okay?” He threw up his hands and dropped them uselessly. “You’re avoiding me. You’re only working nights. You look like death – and it’s probably because you’re not at home where I can watch what you’re eating. And I really want to know why you haven’t once brought up what happened during the eclipse.”

Surprisingly, Stiles found that once he’d got it all out he felt better. A little lighter than he had felt when he walked in the door five minutes ago. And the most surprising part about it was that his father didn’t seem surprised by the outburst at all. He seemed like he was expecting it. Reaching behind him to grab a Chinese food container off the desk, his father turned and handed it to Stiles.

“I haven’t brought it up,” He began as Stiles took the offered container from him. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to be ready to talk about it.”

“Me? But I was waiting –“

He was silenced by his father’s raised hand. “You tried to tell me about it once, and I wasn’t ready to listen. So maybe waiting on you to be ready wasn’t the best idea, but I didn’t want you to feel like I was prying.”

Stiles lifted a spoonful of rice. “Fair.” He muttered before shoveling it into his mouth.

“As for watching what I’m eating,” He looked pointedly at the Chinese container in Stiles’ hand, to which Stiles shrugged. He never claimed to be perfect. “And lastly, I’m not working nights to avoid you. I would never do that.” His dad looked hurt that Stiles would think otherwise.

“Then what is it?”

The Sheriff stood and looked out the window for a moment before answering. “There’s always been something here. I’ve known that for a long time, and I just didn’t want to see it because it never affected us.” He returned his gaze back to Stiles. “But you’ve been living with this for months, dealing with it on your own. You and Scott, and your friends. And I can’t keep my head in the sand anymore. So I’ve been working nights, because that’s where I need to be to do my job. To protect this place. To protect you.”

That would make sense – if Stiles had been smart enough to put two and two together. His father now believed in supernatural things, and supernatural things loved to live in the dark – Peter, for example, if anyone was keeping track, which Stiles was – so, of course he’d want to be working at night. There was a better chance he could make a difference if he worked the same schedule as evil doers. Stiles was such an idiot.

“So,” His father picked up his Chinese container. “Werewolves. Anything I should know?”

“Ooooh yeah.” Stiles laughed. “There’re some things you should know. First off, they are not nearly as nice as dogs. Unless, of course, you’re talking about Scotty, but he’s always had that sort of puppy glow about him.”

This he could talk about easily. The weight that lifted off his chest made it easy to relax, and he figured for the first time in months he might be able to get a good night’s sleep.

 

He could still smell the charred flesh – his flesh. There was no burning sensation anymore though, he just felt hollow. And after he thought about it for a minute, he even felt cold. Freezing cold. He was shaking.

_Get used to it._

The voice fluttered through his mind. It was his own voice. Stiles’ voice. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and threw his whole body off balance. He stumbled, tripping on his own feet and face planted, inhaling a mouth full of leaves on a gasp.

Cool grass pressed against his cheek. Broken sticks bit at his skin, and gravel dug into his palms. Stiles blinked slowly as he took in the forest around him. The soft sound of the wind rustling through the trees hit Stiles’ ears and he pushed himself off the ground quickly.

“Shit.” He whispered under his breath.

Looming twenty meters in front of him was the remnants of the Hale house. Stiles had always thought the place looked more haunted in the dark. And now here he was, standing in front of the Haunted Hale House in the middle of the night with nothing on except his boxers. To make matters worse, he had no idea how he got there.

“Shit shit.”

It was a good forty minute trek back to his house, and Stiles spent a good majority of the time trying to convince himself that he remembered getting out of bed, choosing not to put clothes on, and going for a barefoot hike out to the Hale residence. That was half burnt down.

When that proved unsuccessful he convinced himself he’d been sleepwalking. And for the last ten minutes he attempted to figure out why he’d slept walked to Derek’s old house.

One single reason came to mind, and since Stiles wasn’t in the habit of admitting he missed Derek Hale, he tossed that reason out the window and gave up.

By the time Stiles hit the pillows again, he’d had even more questions than answers.

 

“Stilinski!”

Stiles jumped, knocking his books off his desk with his elbow and nearly falling out of his chair. The class erupted into laughter and it was quickly quieted back down by their new teacher whose name Stiles had yet to learn. There didn’t seem to be much point. They went through teachers like he went through Adderall.

“Can you repeat the question, I didn’t catch it.” Stiles took the notebook that Scott had picked up and handed to him over his shoulder.

“I didn’t ask a question, I just wanted to get your attention.”

A few more chuckles echoed through the room before being silenced again. His attention wasn’t held long and he blinked slowly again when Scott’s fingers snapped in front of his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you?”

The noise of people shuffling around collecting their things hit Stiles full force and he winced from the deafening sound before everything went back to normal. Grabbing his backpack, he shoved his books in it and stood, swinging the bag onto his back. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“I didn’t ask what was wrong with you,” Scott hissed as he followed Stiles out of the classroom. “But now that you mention it, what _is_ wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me!”

“Bullshit.” Scott grabbed Stiles’ arm and dragged him down the hall and into the empty science lab. He pushed the door closed with his foot and tossed Stiles into a desk with more force than Stiles was sure he meant to. “You’ve been out of it all day, no, you’ve been out of it for days. And the weirdest part is that you’re so calm about it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard your heartbeat so steady.”

“What did I tell you about doing that?” Stiles made to stand. “Stop it.”

Scott pushed him back into the seat with a hand and growled. “You stop it.” He blinked and took a deep breath. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Stiles. I’m worried about you.”

Stiles had been two seconds away from kicking his best friend’s legs out, knowing that it probably wouldn’t do a lot of good, but it would have given him just a little bit of satisfaction anyways. Then he had to go and pull the worry card. Admitting defeat, Stiles slumped back into the chair.

“I’ve been – “ He didn’t even want to say it. He knew how stupid it was. “I’ve been sleepwalking at night.”

“Sleepwalking?” Scott repeated.

“Yeah.”

Nothing could have sounded less sinister, Stiles was sure, but waking up at all hours of the night in various locations and not knowing how he got there was pretty damn scary to him. It bothered him so much that he’d been unable to get back to sleep. By his own calculations, he was running on a grand totally of sixteen hours since Sunday – it was now Thursday. No wonder he felt like a zombie.

“You’ve never done that in your life.” Scott grinned. “Sleep talking, on the other hand…”

Stiles tensed. “You promised you would never, ever, under pain of death, bring that up again!” Like he needed a reminder about all the ways that Derek Hale had weaseled his way into their lives, including Stiles’ subconscious sex brain apparently.

“Sorry.” The guilty look on Scott’s face had Stiles relaxing again. “So, sleepwalking?”

“Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.” He held up his hands. “I mean, I keep waking up, sometimes miles away from home. Sometimes in a different room in the house.”

And that was the worst. Every night he went to bed hoping that he’d wake up halfway across town, instead of in his home. In all his late nights, Stiles had been unable to make rhyme or reason from the places he’d been. The Sheriff’s station, the high school, Scott’s backyard, Derek’s loft, and the Hale house. But in his own house he’d woken in his father’s room, the living room, and their garage. He would have rather woken a million times in the Hale house than once in their garage. It was filled with ten bins that contained all his mother’s belongings, and he had woken up with one of them opened and half the contents spilled out around the floor. Within a minute he had scooped everything up, dropped it back where it came from, shoved the bin back into the rack it had been sitting on, and slammed the garage door closed.

“It sounds like you’re looking for something.”

Stiles brought his thumb to his lips and chewed on the nail. The only thing that connected all the places he’d woken up was him. All the locations were somewhere that was important to him, or had some sort of significance in his life. But he had no idea what he was looking for, or why he’d need to go to all those places to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could tell you when it will end, but it's a constant river of ideas.
> 
> Shout out to iamthelightening for not only listening to my ideas, but helping them blossom into actual written sentences.


	2. Chapter 2

Twisting the volume knob to turn up the radio, Stiles drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the jeep while he waited for Scott. Over the past week he’d slowly been feeling better. His body still felt exhausted but his brain was almost back up to Stiles-speed. The sleep walking had lasted nearly three weeks and then, suddenly, stopped. Which worked out well for Stiles because Scott was two minutes away from telling his mom and asking her to fix his broken best friend.

Life was getting back to routine. His father had even given up a few shifts to spend the night watching terrible TV and eating bad food.

The front door opened and Scott’s dad walked out. He sent Stiles a wave as he walked down the driveway to get into his dick car. Stiles sent him a sarcastic smile and didn’t return the gesture. Flipping a Federal agent off was something Stiles had always wanted to do, but he wasn’t stupid. The agent pulled out into the street and seconds later Scott came out the door.

Scott had a scowl pasted on his face as he trucked down the lawn. After he yanked the jeep door open with more force than was necessary he slid into the seat and pulled the door closed with equal force.

“Pretty sure it’s not my baby’s fault that your dad’s an ass.”

“He’s _such_ an ass!” Scott huffed.

Pulling the jeep away from the curb, Stiles glanced over at Scott. “What did he do now?”

“What didn’t he do?” Scott shifted in his seat to face Stiles. “He tried to tell my mom that I should go _live_ with him for a few months to ‘get away from everything that’s happened.’”  Even Scott’s finger quotes looked aggressive.

“He doesn’t even know what happened.”

“Exactly!” Scott clenched his hands. “He has no idea about anything in my life. He walked out, but he’s conveniently forgotten that part. He’s so self-righteous.”

Stiles nodded. “Half of your problems can be blamed on him.”

“Right? Wait,” Scott narrowed his eyes. “What problems?”

“You know,” Stiles evaded. Daddy issues didn’t begin to explain them. Scott’s fixation with being the perfect son.  Not to mention trying so hard to make his relationship with Allison work, when clearly that was a lost cause. But Stiles wasn’t about to bring that up.

“No, I don’t know. And if he’s to blame for half, you have to be the reason for the rest.”

“Hey!” Stiles parked the jeep in front of Pizzaria and killed the engine. “If anything, I’m the one who keeps you honest. Derek is your other half.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “And what exactly did Derek do to screw me up, Stiles? Peter was the one who bit me, and you were the reason why I was in the forest in the first place.”

“Blame placed.” Stiles held up his hands in defeat.

It was Saturday night, but the restaurant was dead when they walked in. Only three other people occupied a table near the back. Scott and Stiles grabbed the stools at the front beside the bay windows that looked out onto the street. They ordered their customary pepperoni with extra cheese.

“So what did your mom say after the Fed told her that genius plan?” Stiles leaned with his elbows on the counter.

Scott chuckled. “She laughed in his face, and told him there was no way in hell he was taking me out of town, let alone out of the state.”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed. “That’s cute. It’s funny because she knows that even if he tried to haul you anywhere, your werewolf super strength would come in handy. Oh god, I just want to see you punch him in the face, right in the nose, just once.”

“I was so close last week. Like,” Scott held his thumb and forefinger up, inches from each other. “This close.”

“What happened last week?” Stiles thought he caught someone standing in front of the windows watching them, but when he turned to look there was nothing but his reflection.

“He came to dinner, remember?” At Stiles’ blank stare, Scott sighed. “We talked about this for, like, four hours, dude, how can you not remember?”

Running through every conversation that they had last week, Stiles came up blank. He shook his head. “We didn’t talk about anything that happened to you at a dinner.” He’d remember. He’d made it his life’s mission when they had been kids and Scott’s dad had left that he would keep a list of every bad thing the Fed did, so that one day they could sue him for it and get a whole bunch of money. They’d been ten and in desperate need of money to buy an N64.

“I think I’d know if I talked to someone else besides you for four hours about my dad. Oh, wait, there _is_ no one else I’d talk to about my dad for four hours, not even my mom.

“And I think I’d know if I talked to you for four hours about your dad. It wasn’t me,”  Stiles insisted.

“Yes, it was.” Scott frowned, and then lifted his brows and dug into his pocket. “Here, look, you even texted me about it later.”

While Scott flipped through his messages, their pizza came, and Stiles grabbed the first piece. There was no way Scott would find a message from him, because that conversation hadn’t happened. Scott shoved the screen of his phone into Stiles’ face, and Stiles grabbed it to hold it further away. At the top of the message was his name in bold letters, and inside one of the blue bubbles was a message. _Hey Buddy, don’t worry about what your dad said, he’s a dick, always has been, and next time he tries to crash dinner with your mom, wolf out on his ass_. But that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have sent that message because he had no idea what Scott was talking about.

The message was dated that Wednesday. They should have had lacrosse practice after school, but now that Stiles thought about it, he couldn’t remember that either.

“I told you.” Scott took his phone back. “Jeez, four hours you helped me father bash and you don’t even remember it. You sure you’ve been sleeping again?”

Four hours. That must have been… “Was that during our double spare after lunch? We talked during practice too?”

“Yeah. See, I knew you’d remember.” Scott grabbed a slice and chomped on it.

Four hours that he didn’t remember in the afternoon, but he didn’t remember lacrosse practice either. And worse, he couldn’t remember anything after practice. That was a span between lunch until Stiles went to bed that he couldn’t account for. The pizza lost its taste, but Stiles choked it back so Scott wouldn’t worry.

 

Monday rolled around faster than Stiles would have liked. The weekend felt non-existent, and since Scott had ditched him twice – once in favour of his mom, which Stiles could forgive, and the second in favour of Allison, which Stiles was still considering not forgiving – so he’d been left alone with his thoughts more than he would have liked. All things considered, they hadn’t gotten quite as bad as he was used to.

There was only a handful of times that he debated on finding a new best friend. Isaac had been the runner up, but since he had been spending an awful lot of time with Allison, Stiles kicked him to the bottom of the list. Not only did he not want to have to deal with that particular mess again, but Stiles thought it was just bad taste to become best friends with your ex-best friend’s ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend.

Of course, there was always Danny. Since Jackson had disappeared with a lame ass explanation, Danny was left pretty much alone. Two friendless lost souls could find each other, couldn’t they? But Danny didn’t like gaming or eating bad food or watching terrible TV. And the only thing Stiles could come up with that they had in common was lacrosse and really enjoying the view of a shirtless Derek Hale.

Which was how Stiles got on the idea of a shirtless Derek, and how he was really starting to like that thought before Derek had disappeared in a similar fashion as dickhead Jackson. So, Derek and Jackson could just be assholes together in whatever far off place they decided to run away to.

He was contemplating Lydia as his new best friend when his history teacher dropped something onto his desk. Glancing at the top of the page where it said _Exam 2_ and the scribbled _A_ in red ink beside it, Stiles blanked. Their second test had been scheduled for Monday – today. He swiveled in his seat instantly to consult his best friend.

“I thought the test was today.”

Scott was frowning at his own exam, but looked up with a puzzled expression at Stiles’ statement. “Dude, what are you talking about? It was for Monday. We studied together on Sunday night, and apparently it didn’t do me any good.” He tossed the exam onto his desk and Stiles noticed the _C-_. “How’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, because I never wrote this test.” Stiles hissed.

“What?” Scott leaned forward and grabbed the exam from Stiles. “Congratulations. You’re back on your game.”

Stiles jabbed his finger into the paper. “I didn’t write this. Today is Monday. How could I even have written this and it already have been marked.”

“Today isn’t Monday. Today is Wednesday.”

“What?” Stiles blanked again. That couldn’t be possible. It was actually impossible. Scott had been over last night and they had been studying for the exam that they had today. He’d gone to sleep last night and it had been Sunday. It could not be Wednesday. “No, no, no, no. No. Don’t you do this to me, Buddy, stop screwing with me. I did not write this test.”

“I’m not screwing with you. Why would I screw with you?” Scott glanced at Isaac, who had shot them a look. “And you did write this test, because I was here when you wrote it.”

“No!” Stiles snapped.

“Stilinski!” Their teacher bellowed from the front of the class. “Turn around and stop talking.”

Giving one last pleading look at Scott to stop messing with him, Stiles turned back in his seat. Scott slipped his exam back to him over his shoulder. “We’ll talk after class, okay?”

Stiles took the paper and gave a quick nod of his head, but it didn’t stop his mind. He starred down at the writing on the exam. It was his writing. Perfect down to the loops on his G’s that he could never get right and his mom had told him it was okay, because it just made his writing unique. Distinguishable. He flipped the page, then flipped again. They were all the same.

Last week he’d been missing nine, maybe ten, hours and now he was missing two whole days. Two entire days that he had apparently been walking around, writing tests and –

“Was I at lacrosse practice on Monday?” He whispered to Scott under his breath.

“Yes.” Scott whispered back.

And he’d gone to practice. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his dad, apologizing for missing their habitual dinner at the station on Tuesday. Scott and the entire class could play a joke of this magnitude on him, but his father would never be in on a prank like that. It was few minutes before his dad responded: _aren’t you in class? pay attention, we did have supper yesterday, or where you texting during that too?_

Stiles slid his phone back into his pocket and tried not to panic. It wasn’t like he’d mysteriously disappeared for two days and no one knew where he was or what he was doing. Apparently he’d been very active during the time he couldn’t recall, but everyone else knew where he was. He was the only one not sure what was going on. He took a deep breath.  It was okay. This could be explained.

“I can’t explain it.” Stiles mumbled as he leaned against the lockers after class. Scott dug through his things and peered around the open locker door at Stiles.

“What’s there to explain?”

Stiles gaped at him. “Are you serious right now? I’m telling you that I don’t remember the past two days, and all you can ask is ‘what is there to explain’? I think there’s a lot that needs to be explained. First and foremost - what the hell is Isaac doing listening to our conversations now?”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t what should have been at the top of Stiles list since he was halfway on his way to a full blown panic attack, but his problems were his own. Not Isaac’s.

“It’s not like he can help it.” Scott shut his locker and swung his bag onto his back. “And he’s just worried about you. He hears your heart too, you know?” Scott whispered like it was some big secret.

“Yeah, well, you and every other wolf in the world needs to stop listening to my friggin’ heart. It’s a personal sound that only I should be able to hear when it’s pounding really loudly in my ears.” Much like it was right now. Stiles ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Can we please get back to me missing two days of my life that I will never get back?”

“Sure,” They started walking towards the parking lot. “What if you were just, you know, out of it again? Are you sure you’ve been sleeping okay? No night terrors or waking up in strange places?”

“No.” Stiles sighed. Even when he had been out of it like a zombie it had only lasted for a few minutes, and it wasn’t the same. He was still thinking when he zoned out, still conscious of where he was. “I haven’t had them in weeks. And I’ve been sleeping fine. I woke up this morning feeling better than I have in months.” He unlocked the jeep, tossed his bag into the back and got in. “I thought it was getting better.” He said once Scott was in.

“You were getting better. You are better.”

“Well,” Stiles started the jeep up and pulled out of the student parking lot. “How did I act?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like yesterday, and Monday.” Stiles urged. “How was I acting?”

“You were you.” Scott shrugged. “Fidgety and sarcastic and easily excited. I don’t know what to tell you, except, you were you.”

The response was unhelpful and Stiles wanted to slap Scott upside the head for it since he was so obviously not himself. He was so far beyond himself that he didn’t understand why he was the only one who noticed it.

“Look,” Scott said softly when Stiles pulled up in front of his house. “Maybe you were just tired. You spent a good chunk of the weekend studying for that history exam, and hey, it paid off, you aced it.”

Stiles smiled a little and nodded his head. Like it was the most important thing that he had passed a history test with flying colors when he couldn’t remember writing it in the first place.

“So you were probably just really tired,” Scott continued. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re right.” Stiles nodded again. “That’s probably it.” Scott didn’t know that it had happened once before because Stiles had decided to keep it to himself so that Scott wouldn’t worry. So, he’d just let Scott believe that he was overtired, because on top of everything else that Scott was dealing with, Stiles didn’t want to be another problem.

Scott opened the jeep door and hopped out. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“You bet.” Stiles pasted on a grin. “Bright and early.” He hoped.

When he pulled away from Scott’s place, he’d been planning on heading straight home, but he detoured and headed towards the library instead. Something was going on inside him, and the only way Stiles knew how to figure that out was to read a lot.

 

Stiles opened his eyes sleepily. The first thing he noticed was that he was leaning against a stone wall in a dimly lit bathroom stall. The second thing he noticed was the muffled pounding of music from outside the bathroom. The third thing he noticed was that his pants were around his ankles, and he had a familiar tightening in his balls.

The fourth thing he noticed was his right hand was buried in someone’s hair instead of wrapped around his own dick. And the last thing he noticed was that Derek was on his knees with his mouth currently wrapped around Stiles’ dick.

“Oh fuck, Derek!” Stiles dropped his head back against the wall as he thrust his hips forward into the wet heat of Derek’s eager mouth and came harder than he had in his life. Ever.

“Who’s Derek?”

His eyes snapped open again and darted to the man on his knees in front of Stiles. The man who was _not_ Derek. Brown eyes starred back at him. There were some similarities though – dark hair, high cheekbones and that stubble that drove Stiles crazy. But it was most certainly not Derek and Stiles’ heart skipped a beat.

He wasn’t dreaming. This was not a dream and Stiles had just been given the best blowjob of his life by a complete stranger who was a Derek look-a-like.

“Hey, you okay?” Derek’s double rubbed a thumb against his hip bone. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Oh god.” Stiles shoved the man’s shoulder and sent him crashing backwards into the side of the stall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He growled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Where am I? And who the hell are you?” Stiles stuttered. He pulled his jeans up over his hips and fumbled with the buttons.

“You’re in the fucking club. And I’m the guy you’ve been hitting on for the past three hours, asshole.”

“Oh god.” Acid bubbled up in his throat and his stomach rolled. “Oh god.” Flicking the lock and shoving through the stall door, Stiles stumbled out of the bathroom. The sarcastic ‘you’re welcome’ chased him out into the loud open space of the club.

Lights danced around him and the music overwhelmed his still sensitive senses. Stiles felt like he’d just woken up from a nap; he was groggy and confused and his body was still sated from an earth-shattering orgasm. He covered his ears and winced, eyes frantically searching for an exit. Catching what looked like the main doors, Stiles pushed through the crowd of men dancing, shoulder checking more than one in his haste to escape.

The overpowering urge to throw up had saliva pooling in his mouth and he choked it back, needing to get himself some space. Space where he could breathe. Space where he could think.

Shoving his way through the doors, Stiles gasped as the cool, crisp air hit his lungs. His eyes searched for his jeep and he spotted it parked mid-way down the parking lot. A few glances were cast his way as he staggered along the pavement for his car and he prayed that no one would follow him.

He hit the side of the jeep with his back and slid down until his butt hit the ground. Tucking his knees up to his chest, he fought to breathe. His stomach was still trying to evacuate through his mouth and his mind kept forcing it back down. He needed his breath and puking all over the pavement wasn’t going to help.

As he dropped his forehead to his knees, Stiles shoulders began to shake. He knew what this was, but he couldn’t stop it and before he could convince himself otherwise he lurched to the side and emptied the contents of his stomach. Returning to a sitting position, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and bit down hard on his knuckles. It was a trick that his dad had taught him. In theory, the pain from the bite was supposed to reboot his mind and stop the panic attack.

His hands were still shaking by the time he was able to haul himself up and slide into the jeep. He tried to recall the last thing that he could remember. It had been third period, right before lunch, and he’d be talking to Lydia about the upcoming lacrosse game. He’d said they were sure to lose, and Lydia had slapped him upside the head and told him to stop being such a pessimist. Then…well, then nothing. He couldn’t remember going to his chem lab, or history class, or – he didn’t even know what day it was. For all he knew, he could have been out of it for days again.

And the most disturbing part about it was that he’d woken up in a gay club with some dude that looked an awful lot like Derek on his knees sucking him off. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t go to bars, he wasn’t legally allowed to go to bars, and he definitely didn’t start hitting on random strangers. It had taken him _years_ just to get up the nerve to speak to Lydia. Yet, here he was, apparently hitting on men that looked like Derek Hale, which should have been more disturbing than anything, but the only part that bothered Stiles the most was that he couldn’t remember doing it in the first place.

“Fuck.” He gripped the steering wheel, then slammed his hands against it a few times. Starting up the jeep, he glanced at the clock on the dash. 12:41am. Scott would be asleep. He pulled out his phone anyways.

“’tiles?” Scott’s drowsy voice answered on the second ring.

“Hey, buddy.” Stiles felt almost half the tension evaporate from his shoulders at the sound of Scott’s voice. He choked, not sure what else to say.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles heard the rustling of sheets in the background and knew Scott had sat up.

“Nothing,” He started, but couldn’t remember why he had called in the first place when he’d agreed to keep Scott in the dark about what was going on. Only he really didn’t want to go home to an empty house, and what scared him the most was that he’d go to sleep and not wake back up. “I’m, ah, I’m not really feeling well tonight and since my dad’s not home and all…” He sighed. “You think I can come over?”

Scott snorted. “You are definitely not feeling well. Since when do you even ask to come over?” He heard a soft _puff_ of Scott’s head hitting his pillow. “Let yourself in. Just be quiet this time, and don’t wake my mom up. You’ll give her a heart attack.”

“No problem.” Stiles said quickly. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. You won’t even know I’m there.”

Scott snorted again and hung up.

Stiles rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before pulling out of the parking lot. He’d get some sleep and things would look better in the morning. They couldn’t any worse at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs and Kisses to the lovely [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for the edits and the late night wine discussions that fuels the fire.


	3. Chapter 3

“Have you seen Allison today?”

Stiles and Scott had exactly ten minutes left until the bell rang and they could ditch their chem lab and head toward the locker room to get ready for their game. Ten minutes till freedom. Stiles looked up to stare at Scott. Ten minutes to finish their project or they’d get a zero.

“No.” He looked back at his beaker and carefully measured a pinkish liquid that Stiles was ninety-nine percent sure they shouldn’t be allowed to use in high schools. “I haven’t seen her.” Hating himself for opening his mouth again, Stiles forced the friend words out. “Why?”

Dropping his notebook onto the table, Scott leaned closer. “I want to know if she’s coming to the game after school.”

Even if Scott had tried, Stiles doubted he could be more pathetically broken. Allison hadn’t exactly been dodging them, but it came pretty damn close. She would answer Scott’s texts with single words and when Stiles got a sentence from her it was considered a breakthrough. When they did manage to run into her in the hall or before class she was always headed somewhere in a hurry. They hadn’t talked about it much, but they both knew that there was something going on between her and Isaac. Scott ignored it. And Stiles hated it.

He knew exactly what it felt like to not have his existence acknowledged by the one person in the world that he wanted the most attention from. At first with Lydia for the better part of his life and then at some point with Derek. A fact that Stiles was oblivious to up until the time Derek left Beacon Hills in the rear-view mirror of his stupid, sexy car.

“Well Isaac is playing, so I’m sure she’ll be there.” It slipped out and before Stiles could even register the pained expression on Scott’s face he rushed on. “I’m so sorry. That was the most insensitive thing I’ve ever said and I take it back. One hundred percent. Do you want me to text her and ask?”

He was doing a bang up job on the friendship level these days.

“It’s okay.” Scott shrugged, the hurt look still clear as day on his face.

“It’s not.” Stiles urged. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He pulled his phone from his pocket to text Allison when Isaac leaned in behind them.

“I heard her tell Lydia at lunch that she was going.”

If Stiles had werewolf strength his phone would have been crushed in his hand at the sound of Isaac’s grating voice. Scott’s eyes had brightened slightly at the news, but Stiles grinded his teeth in annoyance. The damn orphaned werewolf was always listening to them. Not only that, but didn’t Scott care that Isaac had seen Allison today? That should have bothered Scott more than it did Stiles.

“ _Thank you,_ Isaac.” Stiles didn’t even bother to turn and face him. “Can we get back to the urgent task at hand, now that we all know where Allison is going to be later? Please?”

Scott picked up his notebook with a dumb, puppy grin on his face, and Stiles was about three seconds away from tossing the pinkish liquid in his face. Sadly, with Scott’ werewolf super powers he would only be in pain for seconds. Considering the psychological pain Stiles had been in for months from Scott’s incessant whining over Allison, it didn’t feel like a fair trade.

A few minutes later the final bell rang, and Stiles nearly dropped the beaker he was holding. They were no closer to finishing than they had been when they had started. “Shit.” He placed the beaker on the table with more force than he intended, and watched carefully as Scott walked up to the front to hand in their very blank worksheet.

When Scott returned, they packed up their bags and headed out of the classroom towards the locker room. Scott was rambling on, but Stiles tuned him out. It wasn’t like he had to guess what Scott was talking about. Stiles had problems of his own, but did he go running off his mouth and forcing Scott to listen to every single one of his thoughts? No. Every night for the past three weeks Stiles had been reading through the mountain of books that he’d picked up from the library. He’d nearly broken his back carrying them out to the jeep and then all the way up to his room so that his dad didn’t wonder what the hell he was doing with his life. And every night he’d passed out, dead tired, and terrified because he was half convinced he was losing his mind and there really wasn’t anything wrong with him.

“Stiles.”

“What?” He snapped.

Scott reeled back, eyebrows popping up to his hairline. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” Stiles laughed. “Well my best friend has become a freaking supernatural creature that shouldn’t exist and it’s my fault. We’ve nearly died only a million times since then. Our friends _have_ died. We put everyone in our lives at risk every day by just breathing the same air as them. My dad hasn’t had a normal day since the eclipse, and as much as I love the brave face he puts on, I know it’s just for show. People we thought we could trust have left us here to deal with anything that comes our way thanks to the fucking beacon we lit up doing an ancient ritual. And to top it all off, I just failed a chemistry worksheet that I should have been able to do with my eyes closed.” Stiles ran a hand down his face. “I have plenty of problems, Scotty.”

Through his rant, Scott kept looking around to see if anyone was listening, but classic highschool,  no one gave two shits about anyone else’s problems.

“You didn’t fail the worksheet.”

Stiles sighed. “What?”

“I said you didn’t fail the worksheet.” Scott pushed open the door to the locker room and walked in front of Stiles. Most of the team was already there getting their gear on. “I filled it in while you were glaring at nothing.”

He hadn’t been glaring at nothing. He’d been glaring at the beaker of pinkish liquid and weighing his options of throwing it in Scott’s face. And also trying not to strangle Isaac. “How did you fill it in? We didn’t even do anything.”

“I was listening to everyone else talk about their results.”

Stiles threw his bag against his change locker. “Oh, perfect. Now on top of everything, I have to worry about being caught for cheating.” He ripped his locker open. “Thank you, Scott.”

Scott opened his own locker and tossed a sarcastic smirk over his shoulder. “You’re welcome Stiles.” Everyone moved around them oblivious to the tension. Scott and Stiles put their equipment on, not breaking the glare each was giving the other. “You know I meant what was your problem with me.”

“Who says I have a problem with you?” Stiles pulled his jersey over his head.

“It’s pretty obvious in your attitude.” Scott reached up on his top shelf to grab his helmet. “If you’re not snarling at someone else, then you’re doing it at me. Lately I’ve been forgetting who’s the aggressive werewolf here.” He leaned in close for the last bit, making sure no one else could hear.

When Stiles stepped into his space, they were nearly nose to nose. “Maybe if you’d used a little more of that aggression to fix your broken – “

“Guys.”

Finally tearing his eyes from Scott’s, Stiles turned his glare to Isaac. He absently noticed that the rest of the team was gone, and they’d been whispering for no reason. “What the fuck do you want now Isaac?”

“Stiles!” Scott hit his shoulder with the heel of his palm.

“Oh give me a break.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “He’s been following us like some lost dog – which I guess you are, right?” He stepped away from Scott and stalked towards Isaac. “No parents, no Derek. Scott, the one person who took you in, you turned around and bit in the ass.”

Scott pulled at his shoulder and sent Isaac a pleading look. “Don’t listen to him, Isaac, he’s just pissed off at me and taking it out on you.”

Rolling his eyes again, Stiles let Scott pull him back. He’d already said too much anyways. There was no point in telling Isaac how he felt about being spied on, because Isaac would already know from listening to his private conversations with Scott. The kid was dense.

“I was just coming back for my water bottle and heard you fighting.” He hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink down.

The excuse almost made Stiles laugh. Coach always had extra bottles of water at the bench by the time the team got out there, just in case.

“Here,” Scott grabbed a bottle from his locker and handed it to Isaac. “Take mine.”

“Just like you’ve taken everything else.” Stiles muttered, and Isaac’s hand faltered as he took the bottle from Scott.

“Seriously, dude, you need to shut up. Right now.” Scott snapped at Stiles and forced the bottle into Isaac’s hand.

“Come on, it’s true!” Stiles motioned to Isaac. “We all know he’s been trying to get into Allison’s pants for the past three months.”

Isaac opened and closed his mouth like a fish for half a second before his cheeks heated. The stricken expression on Scott’s face told Stiles all he needed to know. Isaac was no longer _trying_ to get with his best friend’s ex, he had already _been_ with her.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles shoved passed Scott and fisted his hands in Isaac’s jersey before knocking him against the lockers. Isaac turned his gaze to the floor and didn’t seem the least bit interested in using his werewolf strength to knock Stiles away. “What the hell is the matter with you? Scott took you in when no one else would!”

A hand gripped Stiles shoulder and pulled him away. Scott stepped in between them, his eyes glowing red around the edges. “That’s enough, Stiles. Back off.”

“You’re gonna wolf out on me? After what he’s done to you, you’re going to protect him?” Stiles threw up his hands and then reached for his helmet and stick. “Fine. You want to walk around knowing he’s banging your girlfriend, _smelling_ he’s banging your girlfriend, be my guest, buddy.” 

Striding out of the locker room and heading down the hall towards the field, Stiles shoved his helmet onto his head. He knew he wasn’t making any sense. One minute he was ripping into Scott like he was the worst friend in the world, and the next he was jumping all over Isaac in defence of Scott’s honor. His blood felt like it was boiling, and the only thing that was making him feel better was taking his frustration out on the people closest to him. Every word out of his mouth felt wrong, and half the time he didn’t even feel like his thoughts were his own.

Cool air hit his face when he left the school and he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and trying to calm his nerves. When he opened them, he saw the other lacrosse team warming up on the field. Something clicked inside him, and he grinned, suddenly looking forward to being able to hit someone without it seeming out of place.

 

An hour into the game and Stiles was finally put onto the field. As he jogged to take his place at the far left side of the team, Stiles eyes up the tall blonde he’d been watching since the start of the game. He reminded Stiles of Isaac, and he’d memorized how the other player moved.

When the whistle blew Stiles was on the other player’s heels, shadowing him. He watched the guy spin his stick; a tick Stiles had picked up on to mean that he was the receiver for the play. The second the ball dropped into his stick’s net, he pivoted to run, but Stiles was right there waiting. He dropped his shoulder and hammered the other guy just below the navel, lifting his feet up and slamming his back into the ground. Looking down at the fallen player, Stiles breathed heavily. He’d never felt so empowered in his life.

“Foul. Clipping.” Announced the referee. “Number twenty-four, red.”

“What?” Stiles lifted his head to glare at the ref. “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you blind? I wasn’t anywhere near his knees!”

“Stilinski!” Coach yelled at him across the field before the ref could give him a warning. “Shut your trap, and do that again – but gentler.” He added when he got a look from the ref.

Best tackle of the season and the ref decided it wasn’t a fair hit. That was fine, Stiles thought, he had more where that came from. Moving back into position, his eyes roamed for the second player he’d kept tabs on. He had a floppy, brown mop of hair on his head that reminded Stiles of Scott. Zeroing in on Scotty N.2, Stiles recalled that he bounced on the balls of his feet when he was going to take out their lead attack guard. Stiles dug his cleats into the grass. When the play started he gave the other guy a head start before giving chase. Stiles rounded the other players and intercepted the tackle in mid-air. He grabbed Scott N.2 by the waist and swung him around, letting go only to plow his face into the ground.

Scott N.2 looked up at him, eyes dark. Stiles smirked down at him, and then blew him a kiss.

“Foul. Unnecessary roughness. Number twenty-four, red.”

Stiles was about to open his mouth to tell the ref exactly how much rougher he could make things when Scott gripped his arm and yanked him away. “Are you trying to get yourself kicked out?” He whispered harshly in Stiles’ ear. “Your dad’s here.”

In between the claps and the cheers, Stiles could hear his father’s words. _Come on, Stiles_. Strong. Encouraging. Stiles tuned him out and narrowed his eyes at Scott. “Don’t try and guilt me into acting how you want.” He jerked his arm free. “I’m not your pet human.”

“I don’t think that.” Scott grabbed the back of Stiles’ neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Just stop acting like this, Stiles. This isn’t you.”

Meeting Scott’s eyes, he laughed. “I’m just letting off a little steam, Scotty.” He stepped away, but Scott grabbed his wrist. Stiles looked down at the grip, then back up. “Let go of me.”

“Or what? You gonna hit me too?”

“Tempting.” Stiles pushed the end of his stick into Scott’s chest. “But I don’t think a hit to your head will do anything to help your slow processor.”

Scott knocked the stick away and growled under his breath. Shaking his head, Stiles jogged backwards to get back into position. There was just one more player to take care of on his radar, and then maybe he could go home and get some sleep. Number Four would have been easy to pick out even without the number. He moved like a cat: agile, slow, and precise. Whether he wanted to look cool, or older, wasn’t Stiles’ concern, but the stubble on his face only served as a reminder that Derek had left them all behind. Left Isaac, the one he’d made. Left Scott, the one he claimed to want in his pack. Left Stiles, the one he never wanted in the first place.

He gripped his stick. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good enough for Derek. It wasn’t Scott or Isaac’s fault. When he heard the whistle blow he shifted the hold he had into a baseball grip, ran up and swung, nailing Number Four dead in the face. The crunch he heard was sickening and sent a wave of pleasure through his entire body.

Hands grabbed him to pull him away, and he heard the ref call out his number again along with disqualified. He shrugged out of the hold on him and strode across the field. He felt good. Liberated. And beneath that was a hint of shame that he didn’t want to feel, so he reveled in the glory instead.

“Hey,” His father grabbed his arm when he rounded the bleachers. Stiles was getting really sick of people doing that. “You get changed and get your ass home. We’ll talk there.”

Not wanting to let his father’s stern voice ruin his mood, Stiles pulled free and headed towards the locker room. He tossed his equipment carelessly into his locker and grabbed his things.

Making it home in record time, he noticed that the squad car was already in the driveway. Not that it mattered. There wasn’t a lot that the Sheriff could say that Stiles hadn’t already prepared himself for on the drive. Disappointment and possibly some anger. The second the front door closed, his dad was on his case.

“What the hell was that about out there, Stiles?” He stood in the doorway, attempting to block Stiles from escaping to his room. “What were you thinking?”

“Well I was thinking that we were down by two points and the best thing I could do was take out the other team’s key players.”

“You think this is funny? Or a game?”

Stiles grinned and shrugged. “It is a game, Dad.”

“What you did, was not a _game_.” He placed his hands on his hips, classic father move, and one the Sheriff used to intimidate kids. It hadn’t affected Stiles in years. “What you did could be considered assault, and you should count yourself lucky no one’s talked about pressing charges yet.”

“Call me a troubled youth.” Stiles leaned back against the door. “I’ll just claim it was all from the parenting – or lack thereof anyways.”

“Excuse me.”

Shit. He’d taken that too far. Way, way too far. All the anger that had been building during the day evaporated in an instant. He straightened. “Dad, I’m – “

“Go to your room.” He stepped aside, and then shook his head. “No, you know what? Just have the whole house. I can’t screw you up more than I already have, right?”

“Dad – “ Stiles croaked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo.” He slipped out the door.

The defeated sound in his father’s voice was not something that Stiles had anticipated. But then again, he hadn’t been intending to come home and rip into his dad about something that didn’t matter. Something that had never mattered. So maybe the Sheriff hadn’t been the best at disciplining, and his parenting skills were somewhat lacking. He’d never missed a lacrosse game, he’d never told Stiles that he wasn’t good enough or that he was a burden. And even though he worked – a lot – Stiles had never felt alone. Well, until recently, but that was partly Stiles’ fault.

“Shit.”

Forcing his feet to move, he slowly made his way up the stairs. The piles of books scattered across his room caught his attention, and he pushed the idea of a shower from his mind in favor of researching just a bit more. He could shower in the morning.

For the past three weeks, he’d been going over everything he had and he didn’t even know where to start anymore. Catching his computer out of the corner of his eyes, he headed towards it and decided to try something new. He went onto a self-diagnosis website and started searching symptoms.

Nearly two hours later, Stiles was convinced that he was less insane than he thought. Sleepwalking and memory loss could be caused from a number of things, but what stood out the most to Stiles was stress and sleep deprivation. Both of which Stiles had been experiencing prior to the sleep walking episodes. And once he had started sleeping better, the sleep walking had stopped. Unfortunately, that’s when the memory loss started. And Stiles couldn’t account for his bursts of hostility.

He dropped his head to his desk and cringed. He was slowly coming to the conclusion that he was never going to figure himself out.

_Stiles._

He jerked upright and looked behind him. The room was empty. His phone vibrated across the desk and he jumped again.

“ _Jesus_!” He snatched his phone and looked at the ID. Scott. “Hey.” He said softly when he answered.

“Hey.” There was a pause. “So…You broke that guy’s nose.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“You wanna talk about what all that shit was about?”

“Not really.” He leaned back in his chair and spun around. Now that all the anger was gone, Stiles just felt like an ass. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out. “All that stuff I said, to you and Isaac, I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“It came out of nowhere, and you didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“I know.”

Stiles kicked one of the books on the floor. “And I feel like a real piece of shit for it.”

“I know.”

“Did you call just to gloat that you know everything?” There was a brown, leather book sticking out from under his bed that he didn’t remember grabbing at the library. He didn’t remember something, that was new, he snorted. “Because I gotta tell you, self-righteous isn’t a good look for you, buddy.”

Scott laughed. “Actually I called to check up on you. The apology was just a bonus.”

“We good?” Moving off the chair, he held the phone between his head and shoulder to dig the book out.

“Yeah, we’re good. But I think Isaac should hear it from you.”

Sitting upright, Stiles flipped through the pages of the old book. It was a bible. Why the hell would he take out a bible from the library? “Yeah, trust me, he’s on the list. Right after my dad.”

“Dude, you didn’t!”

“Oh, I sure did.” He stopped on a page with a terrifying picture of the devil and grimaced.

Scott whistled on the line. “How do you plan on fixing that one?”

“With a lot of Chinese. Probably every night this week.”

“I wish my mom was that easy to apologize to. You’re picking me up tomorrow then?”

“Of course.” Stiles scoffed, offended. When Stiles had been first to get his license they had agreed that no matter what he’d always pick Scott up from school, and that included when they were fighting – they just didn’t have to talk to each other.

“Alright. Later.”

“Yup.”

Tossing his phone over his head and onto his bed, Stiles leaned against the mattress and starred at the picture. It was creepy. Long, slit tongue. Boney, featherless wings. And black eyes. He was so captivated by the never ending abyss of them that he barely heard the whisper.

_Stiles_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) who lets me get away with being evasive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!  
> Just wanted to send out an apology for the update being late. I swear I had every intention of posting on Tuesday, but needless to say things got a little crazy. Thanks for everyone who's reading and for the great comments.

A feral growl echoed through the muggy night air as two wolf hands gripped Derek’s shirt and threw him twenty feet into a tree. The crack of the back of his head connecting with bark sent a wave of pain surging inside his head. Through the black spots in his red vision Derek ducked and narrowly missed a set of claws to the throat. Using all his strength he kicked a leg out and hit the large beta in the chest, pushing him back a few feet and providing Derek with some much needed space.

Rushing forward, Derek finished shifting and slashed his claws at the beta’s chest forcing him to retreat further. There were just a few more feet to go but just as Derek raised his arm to attack again, a loud pop sounded on the tree to his left and a blinding light had him lifting his arm to protect his eyes.

A gun fired. When Derek lowered his arm he blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to focus. The beta had sunk down to his knees. There was a hole on his shoulder where the mountain ash laced bullet was quickly taking effect. Derek stepped forward and tore into the beta’s throat.

“Was that really necessary?”

Derek had heard Chris’ footsteps coming up behind him, but he didn’t turn to face the hunter. He remembered all too well how much pain he’d been in during the hours the mountain ash slowly poisoned his body and figured he didn’t owe Chris any explanations for his actions when he’d been the one to contact Derek for help in the first place. There’d been a rouge beta wondering the state killing young girls over the past two months and he’d been unlucky enough to be caught on Chris’ radar. Chris had contacted Derek and asked for his help taking the werewolf down.

“Was blinding me before I was ready really necessary?” He countered. “We did have a plan.”

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take him out.” Chris stated with a straight face. Derek didn’t need to listen to his heartbeat to know that was a lie.

Taking the large black bag that Chris handed him, Derek went to work getting the body into the bag. He would have just left it there. It was unlikely that anyone would find it out in the open before it had time to decompose. With the amount of wildlife in the area, Derek would have given it four months tops before it was completely gone, leaving nothing but the bones, and even those would have eventually been scattered by scavengers within two more months. But Chris didn’t want to take any chance of having the body found.    

Once the body was tucked away in the bag, Derek zipped it up and sat crouched with his elbows on his thighs. He inhaled through his nose, letting the familiar scent of Beacon Hills make its way back into his system. He stood and hoisted the body onto his shoulder.

“Why’d you ask for my help with this, Chris?” Derek made his way slowly back to the SUV where Chris was standing with the hatch open. “You could have easily done this on your own, or at least with Allison.”

Leaning into the open trunk, Derek let the body bag roll off his shoulder and into the vehicle. He didn’t know what the Argents did with all the werewolf bodies they’d accumulated over the years they’d been hunting, and he didn’t really want to. Thanks to Allison, Chris had come into a new way of thinking about werewolves, and that suited Derek just fine. He wasn’t going to say or do anything to make Chris regret that decision. At least not intentionally.

“Why’d you say yes?” Chris lifted a brow and handed Derek a towel when he straightened.

Knowing he sounded childish, Derek said it anyway. “I asked you first.”

“You think I wanted to bring my daughter in on a hunt where the prey was a serial killer with an eye for young brunettes?” Derek could see his point. “But I did have ulterior motives for contacting you.”

Derek wiped his hands clean and handed the bloody towel back to Chris. “I hope you’re not still trying to kill me.” It came across as a joke, but Derek wouldn’t put it past him.

“You’re pretty far down on my list.” Derek noted that he was in fact still on the list. “But no,” Chris continued. “I’m more concerned about Isaac these days.”

“Isaac?” Derek frowned. The topic surprised him. “What did he do?”

“He’s sleeping with my daughter.”

Derek’s cool composure almost slipped at that. He felt the urge to laugh bubble deep in his gut and fought to hold it back. He wanted to at least grin, sort of proud that Isaac – the forgotten kid that was always on the sidelines and no one really noticed – had gotten the girl. He kept his face neutral instead. “What exactly am I supposed to do about that? I’m not his father, Chris.”

“No, but he’s your responsibility.” Chris closed the hatch on the SUV. “You turned him.”

“One has nothing to do with the other. I don’t have any control over him anymore, you should be having this conversation with Scott.”

Chris shook his head. “You really think that would go over well?” Derek doubted it, but it still didn’t make it his problem. “I didn’t want Allison and Scott together for a reason and that reason just happens to be exactly the same with Isaac.”

“Look, Chris, I haven’t even been around for months, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Cut the crap.” Chris folded his arms. “I know you’ve been in contact with Isaac since you left. What I can’t figure out is why? Why him? He’s not the only one you left here. What about Scott and Stilinski?”

Derek mirrored Chris’ stance. “Scott is more than capable of taking care of himself, and Stiles isn’t my problem.”

That was so far beyond the truth that Derek was glad Chris didn’t have his own way of knowing when someone was lying. Stiles had been his problem the moment he saw him standing in the forest on his family’s land. And no matter how hard Derek tried to pretend otherwise, Stiles continued to be his problem. Stiles was Scott’s best friend, and since Derek had no intention of removing Scott from his life, Stiles was there to stay. But the damn kid just would not leave Derek alone. He was always there telling Derek his plans were dumb, that everything was his fault, falling on him – literally – and always there with a sarcastic comment.

Stiles’ mouth just never stopped, and it was the biggest problem of all. 

“Then I’ll ask you again, why are you back?”

Beacon Hills was Derek’s home. No Argent or Kanima or anything else was going to keep him away. At least not for long. It wasn’t just where he’d grown up. The area had been home to the Hale pack for centuries, and he wasn’t about to let that go. Cora couldn’t be around anymore, and Derek respected her need to stay away. At least for a little bit longer. She hadn’t flat out told Derek that she wouldn’t come back ever. But when Derek started getting restless, she practically threw him out and told him to go home. Chris’ call couldn’t have come at a better time. It was the last push calling him back. But Chris didn’t need to know that.

He smiled. “Glad to be of help, Chris. We should do it again sometime.” Turning to leave to head back to where he’d parked his own car some three hundred miles out of the town limits, he caught the muttered ‘damn werewolves’ under Chris’ breath and smiled.

Taking his time walking back to his car, Derek took in the feel of being back in his own territory. The wind against his skin. The smell of the forest he’d grown up running through. The sound of the town in the distance. Nothing had changed since he’d been gone, and Derek found that fact more comforting than anything else.

 

The smell of stale coffee invaded Derek’s nose before he even opened his eyes. It was too early to be dealing with anyone and he rolled over with a groan to check his phone. 6:47am. He bunched his pillow up and shoved his face into the feathery soft heaven. There was no way he was ready to get up after being out all night hunting with Chris. He had gotten back into his loft less than two hours ago and even the smell of the coffee wasn’t enticing enough to get him out of bed.

A soft double thump caught his attention, followed quickly by another and then a single. The distinguishable heartbeat had Derek giving up on going back to sleep. Derek may not be responsible for him, but that didn’t mean that he was going to let the kid be late for school. That was all he needed was another blemish on his record.

The black duffle bag was still lying on its side, contents spilled across the wood floor, where Derek had tossed it two hours earlier. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a black shirt, he pulled them on before padding out of his room. As he headed down the iron, spiral stairs he saw where his intruder had crashed.

One leg was draped across the armrest of the couch and the other hung off the side. An arm rested on his chest and the other was splayed across his eyes. Two disposable cups sat on the table by the bay windows and told Derek exactly where the smell of stale coffee was wafting from. The logo on the cups was from the 711 just down the street. Derek bypassed them and sat on the coffee table by the couch.

“Isaac.” He reached over and shook the kid gently.

Lifting his arm to open his eyes and look at Derek, he smiled. “I brought coffee.”

The pride that radiated off him had Derek holding back a groan. The coffee smelled terrible, and he had hoped to get away without having to drink it, but he knew that if he didn’t have some of it now, Isaac would be crushed.

“I saw that.” He stood and walked over to grab both the cups. “Didn’t I tell you that I would come get you after school?” He handed one of the cups back to Isaac when he sat back down.

Isaac got up. “You did.” He grinned. “But I don’t have to listen to you anymore, so…”

It stung a little. He had no regrets about giving up his alpha powers to save his sister, but there was that lingering feeling of failure that mocked him. That made him feel like even if he had had a chance to redeem himself as an alpha that he would have failed.

Shaking off the unease, he took a sip of the coffee and held back a grimace. “What time did you get here?”

“Uh,” Isaac scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “About an hour ago. I heard you sleeping, so I just sat down to wait for you – I guess I was more tired than I thought.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

Over the course of the past few months, Isaac had told him that he had trouble sleeping off and on. It usually happened when things weren’t going so well with Scott. Apparently there had been a few incidents between Scott and Stiles, and Isaac usually ended up getting the brunt of Scott’s frustration. Though Derek hadn’t heard about anything in the past couple of weeks about the best friends being on the outs again, but if something was bothering Isaac again it was probably that.

“No,” He shook his head. “Things have finally gotten back to normal I think.”

Derek wasn’t sure the kid even knew what normal was anymore. Normal to him should have been living in his own house with his father, but that was never going to happen again. At the very least normal shouldn’t have had to include worrying about being chained up during full moons just in case the bloodlust was too much for him to handle. But all Derek was told was that Scott seemed to have helped Isaac get control and they hadn’t had one incident since the eclipse.

“Good.” Against his better judgment, Derek lifted the cup back to his lips and chugged the slew of coffee back in one go. It was the worst thing he’d ever tasted. “Don’t you have an English tutorial before first period today?”

“Oh shit!” Isaac got up quickly and ran a hand down his face.

“Easy.” Derek stood. “I’ll give you a ride.” What he really wanted to do was crawl back into his bed and not think about anything for the next twelve hours, but Isaac had showed up with coffee to welcome him home and the least Derek could do was give the kid a ride to school so he wasn’t late. Even if the coffee was terrible.

“Okay, thanks.” Isaac hesitated a second before taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee. He visibly shuddered. “That’s disgusting.” He eyed up Derek’s empty cup. “I don’t know how you drank that.”

Seriously debating changing his mind and making Isaac ride his bike to school, Derek took the cup from him, and nodded towards the door. Isaac grabbed his back pack that was on the floor by the door while Derek tossed the coffee.

It took less than twenty minutes for Derek to pull into the school parking lot. Isaac had chatted the whole way, and as much as Derek wanted to listen, he’d ended up tuning out halfway through. And by the time he put the car into park and Isaac had opened the door, he knew he missed something.

“Derek?”

He looked over and hid like a coward behind his sunglasses. “Yeah that’s fine.”

From the bright look on Isaac’s face Derek knew he’d just agreed to something that he’d probably regret. He was about to open his mouth and recant the answer when Isaac slammed the door. Watching the younger kid stride into the school Derek hoped that he wouldn’t have to deal with anything else before he could get home and sleep.

 

Derek had just finished towelling off his head when he heard the sound of Stiles’ jeep pulling around the corner down the street.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The sound of three heartbeats in the vehicle told Derek exactly what he’d agreed to earlier that morning when he’d dropped Isaac off. He regretted not paying more attention now that he knew what the kid had sneakily allowed him to agree to and didn’t doubt for a minute that Isaac knew he hadn’t been paying attention. He didn’t want to deal with Scott, and Stiles wasn’t even on the list of people that he wanted to deal with on his first day back home. There was no one on that list.

Pulling on a pair of jeans and a white shirt, he listened as Isaac attempted to tell the other two why Derek had stayed in contact with him while he’d been gone. Scott seemed more than willing to accept, but Derek caught Stiles’ whine of ‘couldn’t he have at least texted Scott that he was coming back?’ Isaac’s reply was lost in the screeching of the loft door.

Stiles’ voice had been something that Derek had been able to put out of his mind. He had been the voice in the back of Derek’s mind scolding him for leaving in the first place, the voice telling him he was being a coward for staying away for so long, and the one voice that he didn’t want to hear when he came back. Scott would understand, he’d know that Derek needed the time away with his sister and that Scott being the new alpha left him no leadership reason to stay. Scott had his number, he could have contacted Derek at any point while he was gone if they needed him – they hadn’t. Things had hit a lull and other than the personal issues between Scott and Stiles, and Scott and Isaac, there was little happening in Beacon Hills.

“I’m just saying that it might have been nice to know, what with the Beacon being a beacon again, that there was another werewolf rolling into town.”

Derek leaned on the iron railing of the top level and watched the three of them walk through the main level. Isaac, ever comfortable in Derek’s house, tossed himself gracefully onto the couch and lifted his feet onto the coffee table. Scott, less comfortable, sat down with his arms on his thighs. And Stiles, probably hyped up on too much Adderall, stood beside the coffee table with his arms crossed and chewing on his thumb nail.

“It’s not like he’s someone new that we’ve never met before, Stiles.” Scott sighed.

“Debatable.” Stiles mumbled with his teeth still gnawing on his nail. “I mean how well do you really know a guy that just runs off after his psychotic girlfriend nearly kills your family?”

The tightening in his chest was a feeling that he’d been used to since he was a kid. First with Paige, and then when his family had been murdered. Then there was the whole clusterfuck with Jennifer. It had taken him a while to get over the fact that he’d thought he was saving Jennifer, rescuing her, and she’d been fooling them the entire time. Playing him. He should have seen it, felt it. And hearing Stiles blame him again only served to rip open that wound and scrub a shitload of salt in it.

“She nearly killed Cora too.” Isaac snapped. “Or did you conveniently forget that in one of your overly aggressive rants?”

Throwing his hands up and shrugging his shoulders, Stiles took a step back. “It was a statement, Isaac, not a rant, but I’d be more than willing to get into one for you if you’d like.”

Less than twenty-four hours since Derek had been home and he was already dealing with their shit again. It nearly made him turn around and leave, but Scott dropped his head into his hands and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world as well. From what Isaac had told Derek, Stiles’ attitude was a normal occurrence these days. He wondered if Stiles noticed the toll it was taking on his best friend.

“Save it, Stiles.” Derek pushed off the railing and headed towards the stairs. He felt three sets of eyes follow him. “By now everyone’s heard it. Multiple times.”

“Yeah, Isaac told us how chatty he’s been with you.” Stiles didn’t back down, didn’t even hesitate. “I just didn’t realize he was spying on us the whole time.”

“Get over yourself.” Derek rolled his eyes and stepped off the last stair. He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Whatever Isaac told me – and it wasn’t much – had nothing to do with spying on you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Scott fell back against the couch. “Welcome home.”

The sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed, and he didn’t need to be a werewolf to pick up that Scott was frustrated. Apparently Stiles didn’t need to be a werewolf to pick up on that either, because he folded his arms back across his chest and shut his mouth. As much as Stiles liked to pretend he didn’t take orders from Scott, he listened quite well to the non-verbal cues that Scott emitted.

“Everything’s been quiet here then?” Derek walked over to the table in from of the bay windows and leaned against it. “No trouble?”

Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat and opened his mouth, but Scott sent him a look. Stiles raised his brows and shrugged, a clear and silent ‘what?’ passing between the two. Scott shot back a ‘you know what’ look that effectively cut Stiles’ protest off. Derek figured he’d need to sleep again by the time the three of them left. Sainthood would not be enough to deal with this.

“Things have been quiet, sure.” Scott returned his gaze back to Derek once his mute debate with Stiles had finished. “But not exactly peachy either.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Isaac mumbled with his shoulders hunched as much as his position would allow.

Stiles dropped his arms and took a step forward. “I swear to god Isaac if that was aimed at me –“

“Enough!” Scott growled and even though he never moved both Isaac and Stiles distanced themselves from him. Isaac leaned his body away and Stiles retreated a step back again. Red simmered just below Scott’s brown irises. “Stiles, go wait in the jeep.”

“Seriously?” Stiles gaped. When Scott didn’t provide an answer, he shook his head. “This is bullshit, Scott.” Scott remained stubbornly silent and after a few more seconds he turned his head and dismissed Stiles completely. Derek could almost hear Stiles’ teeth grinding together as he turned and walked out without another word.

The three of them listened to Stiles curse all the way back to the jeep, and he kept on swearing until he turned the jeep on and blasted the music as loud as it would go. There was no doubt in Derek’s mind that the kid kept on swearing even though he knew they wouldn’t be able to hear.

“What’s going on with you three?” Derek folded his arms, tried to pretend he didn’t care when really it was eating a hole in his gut.

“Stiles is a ticking time bomb.”

“Isaac.” Scott said softly with just enough force behind it to have Isaac rolling his eyes and closing his mouth. “Things have been tense lately – for all of us.”

Tense didn’t exactly describe the interactions Isaac had told Derek about, but since Isaac had usually only spoken of the times Stiles freaked on him, Derek supposed he was getting a very one-sided story.

“If you’re all acting the way Stiles is, I don’t know how you haven’t killed each other by now.”

Scott sighed and ran a hand over his face. “We’re all just on edge. It’s a little unnerving being warned about luring supernatural things here with the spell and then nothing happening.”

“So you’re nervous.”

Scott’s eyes snapped to Derek’s. “I’m concerned.”

It was smart. Scott hadn’t had it easy since he’d been turned. The lull in chaos must have seemed out of place. And the fact that normal to Scott involved nearly dying every other day sent a wave of anger through Derek’s body.

“We’ll deal with it when it happens. If it happens.” Derek stood up straight, trying not to let the anger get to him. There was no changing the past. Scott was a werewolf now, and the only thing Derek could do was try to make his life easier instead of harder.  “There’s no point in being concerned about things when they haven’t happened yet.”

“Yeah,” Scott stood as well. “We’re trying.”

Derek watched as Isaac looked between the two of them, clearly torn on where he should be going and who he should be listening to. Derek wasn’t an alpha anymore and even if he had been, it was easy to see who Isaac’s loyalties were with. As much as Isaac trusted Derek and spoke with him while he was gone, he knew Isaac was better off with Scott. Derek had lost Isaac’s trust when he had kicked him to the curb with no warning. At the time, Derek knew it had been the best thing for him to do, and it had been the best thing for Isaac to not be in the loft with all the traffic the place had seen with the alpha pack. Scott may have a thing or two to learn as a new alpha, but he was a born leader and Derek respected him for that.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow from school.” He reached a hand down and pulled Isaac up from the couch.

Isaac brightened. “Yeah, sure.”

Following them to the door, Derek noticed that the music from Stiles’ jeep had finally quieted. Scott pulled the loft door open and Derek leaned against it. “You know you could have called, right?”

Scott nodded. “I know. You had stuff to deal with too.”

The kid was far too bright all of a sudden for Derek’s taste. He nodded his head towards the door, ushering them out and pulling the door closed once they had headed down the stairs. Surprisingly he didn’t want to sleep again. Now that he was alone, he felt energized. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Listening to the jeep pull away from the building, Derek opened the loft door again and jogged down the stairs. A run would do him some good. Fresh air and something to get rid of the tension that had built up the second he heard them coming down the road.

Following a trail that he had imprinted into his mind, he started at a jog and slowly increased his pace until he was running full tilt. It didn’t make any sense to him that nothing had happened over the past few months. He was grateful. If something was going to happen, he’d rather have been around. There was no telling what kind of mess Scott and Stiles could get into – not that Stiles needed any help getting into trouble – but add Scott and Isaac into the mix and things were sure to get out of hand quickly.

He’d need to speak with Peter as well. Derek had asked his uncle to keep an eye on things while he was gone, but as far as Isaac had told him, Peter hadn’t made too many personal appearances. The only reason that Isaac and Scott knew Peter was even around was because his scent was still strong in the area. His uncle had evaded most of his phone calls and had chosen to communicate mostly through text, which frustrated Derek to no end since Peter was a one word texter.

By the time Derek made his round trip and headed back to the loft, he felt better. The tension in his body was gone and he had a list of things that he needed to do before the weekend. As he got to the last mile of the trail he slowed his pace to a walk, and half a mile later he heard a faint, distinctive heartbeat coming from the loft. Hesitating for only half a second, something Derek patted himself on the back for, he kept his pace. The jeep was parked outside again, but the one heartbeat had already given away who waited for him in the building. A steady thump that alerted Derek that Stiles wasn’t nervous or excited or afraid. He was calm, and Derek knew that there wasn’t much that could keep the kid’s heartbeat that steady for long. Half the time he was so pumped full of Adderall that it sounded like he was going to have a heart attack.

Derek had left the loft door open because he wasn’t expecting anyone to come back. A mistake he wasn’t going to repeat anytime in the near future.

“Stiles.” Derek pointedly left the door open as he walked through it, hoping that the kid would take the hint that he wasn’t wanted. “What can I do for you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love goes to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for always giving me a reason to continue <3


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles’ scent had invaded his home and that pissed Derek off. As if there wasn’t enough of Stiles floating around in Derek’s brain, now Stiles was standing in the middle of Derek’s loft looking pissy like it had been Derek’s fault that Scott had kicked him out, and Derek was not prepared for it. He wasn’t ready to deal with Stiles, and he needed the kid gone as fast as his human ass could take him.

“Apparently nothing. That’s what you’re good at, right?” Stiles folded his arms and looked like he wouldn’t be moved for anything.

“Look, whatever’s going on between your little threesome is no concern of mine.” Derek strode farther into the room. It was his house, and Stiles wasn’t going to make him back down. “So you can take your attitude and get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you hear what I have to say.”

That almost made Derek laugh. If Derek wanted Stiles gone, he would be. So the fact that Stiles was still in Derek’s loft, with his arms crossed, and that annoying resolve in his eyes, told Derek he didn’t want Stiles gone at all.

Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you just say it then so you can leave?”

Dropping his arms and stalking towards Derek, Stiles shook his head. “You’re such a coward. You’re so goddamn afraid of being alone that you turned four kids into werewolves so you’d have a family. That turned out well for you, didn’t it?”

No one had ever claimed that Stiles didn’t know how to hit where it hurt. Physically, werewolves were great healers. Emotionally, Derek was terrible. And Stiles knew exactly where it hurt the most. Two of those kids he’d turned were dead – his fault. One of them ran away – debatable on his fault. And the other left because he wasn’t a strong enough leader – probably Peter’s fault.

“What do you want, Stiles? An apology?” Derek tucked his hands into his pockets to keep them at his side. He wanted to cross his arms. To have some kind of protection against the rage emanating from Stiles, but he refused to show that weakness. Refused to back down.

“You left, Derek.” Stiles ground his teeth together. “And no one else may be willing to call you on it, but I sure as hell will.”

“I had Cora to think about.”

“Give me a break.” Stiles sneered. “That was an excuse. Give the man a reason to leave.” He stepped forward again, nearly toe to toe with Derek. “You ran. And you left us here to deal with whatever came after us.”

“Nothing came after you!” Derek snapped. “Isaac was in constant contact with me, and Peter –“

“Peter’s not who I trust, Derek!” Stiles shoved Derek with two hands, but Derek barely moved.

“What did you say?”

“I said we needed someone we could trust.” Stiles cheeks heated at the slipup and Derek would have had to be deaf to miss the jump in Stiles’ pulse. “Peter’s –“

“No,” Derek wasn’t going to let him go that easy. “You said ‘I’. Are you actually admitting that you trust me?”

“Maybe I did.” He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I do now.”

“Stiles.” Derek growled. He didn’t know what it meant for them. He didn’t know why he focused in so much on that personal admission, but he didn’t want Stiles to take it back.

“Oh, don’t take that tone with me.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “I get enough of that shit from Scott, and you’re not an alpha anymore. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

Stepping back, Stiles gave a half shrug and crossed his arms again. Protective. Defensive. “The exact moment when that changed. When I started to trust you. When I…”

Derek knew. He knew what Stiles was trying to say, and as much as he didn’t want to go down that road, didn’t want to deal with just how bad he knew it would be, Derek couldn’t stop himself from asking. Because he wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear Stiles say it. “When you what?”

“When I actually started liking you.” His voice had softened. It was nearly unrecognizable because it was the first time since he’d been back that Stiles sounded like Stiles. Real. “And if Scott knew,” The anger returned full force. “You fucking knew before you left.”

Stiles’ eyes hardened and his heartbeat stuttered. Dropping his arms again, he walked passed Derek and headed towards the door. Derek should have let Stiles keep walking, but instead he turned, reached out, and snagged Stiles’ wrist. When Stiles turned his head, his eyes were guarded. It set something off in Derek. Stiles was emotional, it was just part of who he was, and it was most apparent in his eyes. One look in his eyes and you could tell exactly what the kid was thinking. But something had changed since Derek left, because his eyes weren’t easy to read anymore.

“I’m sorry.” Derek hadn’t meant to apologize. He still didn’t think there was anything he did to be sorry for. But that look in Stiles’ eyes was wrong, and Derek would have done or said anything to make it go away. To fix it. “You’re right. I knew.” He let go of Stiles wrist and dropped his hand back to his side. “You should go.”

“No.” Stiles stepped into Derek’s space. “You might be a runner, but that’s not who I am. You know how I feel, and now I need to know what you’re thinking. I deserve to know.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Stiles urged. “You owe me that much for taking off without a goddamn word.”

“Stiles – “

“Just tell me how you feel!”

“I want you!” Derek took a step back, needing the distance between them because he was so close to doing something that he swore to himself he wouldn’t do when he came back. “Christ, would you leave now?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Stiles smirked and stepped forward. “If you think I’m leaving now, you’re crazier than Peter.”

This was a bad idea, and Derek could have kicked himself for letting Stiles know how he felt. Stiles was like a goddamn dog with a bone, and Derek knew he’d never let this go, not until he got what he wanted. And clearly what he wanted was Derek.

“You’re going to regret this.”

Stiles grinned, knowing he’d already got what he wanted. “Not as much as you’re going to regret leaving for five months.” Stiles stepped closer and reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.

“What are you doing?” Without thinking, Derek took another step back. It wasn’t a retreat. He was trying to protect Stiles. The kid didn’t know what he was doing, or he was just pissed off and fucking with Derek to get back at him. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m stripping, obviously.” Stiles grinned and dropped his shirt to the floor. “And it’s not supposed to be funny, so I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

As Stiles reached down to pop open his jeans, Derek lifted his eyes to the ceiling and prayed for some kind of self-control. Stiles fully clothed in six layers was enough to tempt him, but Stiles losing clothes faster than a stripper was just plain torture. “Stiles, stop.” He brought his eyes back down, unable to help himself. “Two minutes ago you were pissed at me, and now you’re stripping. You’re not making sense.”

And that was something new. Stiles always made sense. It might take him a while to get his point across, but he was always logical. He always thought things through. He always had a plan. Derek considered that for a second. Stiles always had a plan, and if he came back to Derek’s – alone – knowing a confrontation was the best chance at getting Derek to admit how he felt, then Derek would be just be playing into Stiles’ hands if he went along with this.

“What exactly isn’t making sense to you, Derek?” Stiles kicked his jeans off completely and with only his boxers left on took slow, deliberate steps toward Derek. “I missed out on _months_ of sex because of you, and now I’m going to make up for it.”

With Stiles standing flush against his body, Derek was drowning. The subtle scent of arousal was a thousand times worse as Stiles leaned his head closer. Derek held his breath, eyes locked with Stiles’ as he brought his face closer and closer, lips hovering at Derek’s collar. Derek couldn’t help the dare in his eyes and Stiles couldn’t help but accept. Warm lips pressed an open mouthed kiss on Derek’s skin and Stiles tongue flicked out to trail wet circles.

Derek was completely powerless to the annoying brat, and he’d fucking missed that mouth. For the life of him, Derek couldn’t remember a single reason why they shouldn’t.

His hand shot out and wrapped around the back of Stiles neck to jerk him closer and he covered his mouth over Stiles’. He could feel Stiles grin, and opened his mouth to slide his tongue across Stiles’ lips. Stiles responded eagerly, lips parting, and Derek licked at the inside of Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles gripped Derek’s hips and pulled them closer, grinding his own pelvis into Derek’s, causing them both to groan. Stiles wore nothing but a scrap of material between them and Derek could feel him hardening under the movement. It sent a thrill through him that had his mind blanking and his own cock hardening in response. Moving carefully around the furniture, Derek maneuvered them closer to the stairs. He dropped his hands to the top of Stiles’ boxers, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over Stiles’ smooth skin.

He couldn’t get them up to his bedroom fast enough, stepping backwards up each step, but he’d be damned if he lost out on one second of having Stiles pressed against him. When he got to the top of the landing Derek dropped his head to Stiles throat, sucking the skin into his mouth where Stiles pulse threatened to beat out of his neck. Stiles followed Derek blindly and the small noises coming from Stiles’ throat had Derek quickening his movements. The back of Derek’s calves hit the mattress and he let go of Stiles throat to drop down on the bed, leveling his face to Stiles stomach where he trailed his nose along the soft, pale skin of Stiles’ navel. He brought his hands around to grip Stiles’ ass and pull him closer, forcing Stiles to climb onto the bed and kneel, straddling Derek’s lap.

And then he did something he’d been thinking about doing since he laid on Stiles in the woods - he darted his tongue out and tasted the flesh, leaving a hot, wet trail from Stiles’ belly button to his right nipple. Circling his tongue around the nub until it peaked; he caught it between his teeth and reveled in the hiss drawn from Stiles throat as he dug his blunt nails into Derek’s shoulders.

“Derek.” Stiles whimpered, his hips grating into Derek’s stomach and his ass dragging against Derek’s constricted cock. The motion enticed a groan from deep in Derek’s chest. He’d easily be able to get off just like this, with Stiles needy sounds in his ears and the frantic squirming of Stiles on top of him.

Sliding his hands around Stiles’ back, he slipped them under the thin material of Stiles’ boxers to tease a finger along his crack. Stiles pushed back against his hands, begging for more. Derek scraped his teeth along the delicate skin of Stiles’ nipple as he pulled away. The throaty moan Stiles made was a sound Derek never wanted to stop. He dragged his chin along Stiles’ collar to suck on his jaw.

Stiles’ hands slipped into Derek’s hair and gripped his scalp tightly. Stiles forced Derek’s head up, his tongue delving into Derek’s mouth. If someone had told Derek two days ago that he’d have Stiles Stilinski in his lap, sucking on his tongue, Derek would have groaned at the mental image and wished it were true. The actual kid was more than a handful.

Using his hands to urge Stiles closer, Derek pressed their bodies together, wanting more contact – needing more contact, but Stiles dropped his hands between them and pulled their lips apart.

“I wanna feel your skin.” Stiles tugged at the hem of Derek’s shirt, expecting him to lift his arms. When he complied, Stiles tugged the shirt over Derek’s head and tossed it carelessly behind him. Stiles eyes dropped to Derek’s bare chest and he licked his lips before sliding his hands across Derek’s stomach. He leaned in close, hands still grazing Derek’s skin, and nuzzled the shell of Derek’s ear. “You have no idea,” He whispered huskily. “How bad I’ve wanted this.”

Nails raked up his sides. Derek sucked in a breath through his nose and released it slowly, fighting to control the urge to just _take_. Stiles had no idea what he was getting himself into, because as much as Stiles wanted Derek now, he hadn’t wanted this from the beginning like Derek had. Hadn’t wanted it when he was lying on top of Derek paralyzed by the Kanima. Hadn’t wanted it when they were pressed together in the pool. Hadn’t wanted it when Derek had depended on Stiles to cut his arm off to save his life. And hadn’t wanted it when he stared across the forest whispering to his friend that Derek Hale was the dude that lost his whole family to a fire.

No, Stiles was new to the whole wanting thing and he was needy and greedy and Derek was going to enjoy every second of making Stiles need him as much as he needed Stiles.

Derek wrapped a hand around the back of Stiles thigh and flipped him onto the bed. Twisting, he placed a hand on either side of Stiles’ body and crawled up to claim his mouth again. The simple act was enough to push Stiles into a frenzy. His body shivered under Derek’s and all the while his hands were everywhere on Derek. His arms, neck, hips, trailing back up to his shoulders and leaving a burning path as they went.

The moment he placed a knee between Stiles legs the kid rocked down, thrusting his hard cock against Derek’s jean clad thigh and his breathing hitched. Derek placed a hand on his hip to hold him still and Stiles groaned against Derek’s lips.

“Come on,” He whined when Derek pulled away.

Derek grinned, flashing white teeth in the dimly lit room. “You think you’re getting off that easy?” He sat on his haunches and used his free hand to run along Stiles ribs, causing him to squirm under Derek.

Instead of answering, Stiles moved his hands to the buttons on Derek’s jeans. They trembled with uncontrolled need when Derek slid his hand from Stiles hip to stroke him through his boxers. His hips jerked and his fingers tripped up on the top button.

“Shit.” Stiles muttered.

Derek watched his eyes slip closed and heard his pulse skip. The kid looked fucking edible, splayed out across Derek’s bed with flushed cheeks and his bottom lip sucked into his mouth, caught between his teeth.

Slowly bringing his hands back to Stiles’ hips, Derek tugged at the top of Stiles boxers. “Lift your hips.” Stiles arched off the bed and Derek pulled the last piece of clothing from his body, exposing him completely to Derek’s viewing pleasure.

If Stiles looked good before, he looked entirely too good now. Derek wet his lips and leaned down, intent on tasting every inch of Stiles body starting with the tip of his leaking cock.

“Wait.” Stiles pushed a hand onto the top of Derek’s head and Derek froze. He’d pushed too far too soon, and even though Stiles had initiated it Derek had known he wasn’t ready. “You too.”

Derek looked up and saw Stiles motioning to his pants. The frantic beat of his heart slowed as he realized Stiles wasn’t saying no. He wanted them to be on the same playing field. Derek smiled, he was more than okay with that. Nodding, he climbed off the bed and undid the button that Stiles couldn’t get. He pushed down his jeans and stepped out of them, noticing the way Stiles eyes widened and his tongue slid across his lips.

The bed dipped as Derek climbed back on it. He placed his hands on Stiles’ ankles and slowly slid his palms along the back of Stiles’ calves, tracing up into the curve of his knees and then moving to graze the top of his thighs. Stiles watched the movements closely, his breath became shallower the farther up Derek moved. He settled one of his hands on the top of Stiles’ thigh, and the other on his hip. Dipping his head, he let out a frustrated groan when Stiles gripped his hair again.

“Wait.”

The kid was trying to kill him. Derek lifted his gaze to Stiles with blurry red vision alerting him that his eyes were glowing blue. Stiles stared down at him, mouth open, tongue pressed against his top row of teeth and there was a rapid upbeat of his heart. He more than liked what he was seeing, and Derek just wanted a damn taste of the kid before he came all over himself.

“What?” The growl was more forceful than he’d intended.

“I just…” His hold in Derek’s hair loosened. “I wanna do it right.”

Seriously still trying to kill him. Derek licked his lips and forced his eyes back, trying to keep himself in check. “There’s no right way, Stiles.”

He groaned and dropped his head back onto the bed. “That’s not what I mean. I mean I want you to – “

“No.” Derek shook his head. Yeah, he knew what Stiles meant. He wanted Derek to fuck him, and Derek might be willing to do a lot of things, but not that. Stiles wasn’t normally the jump in feet first type. He was calculating and thought things through. Derek knew he hadn’t thought this through. Not really.

“Why not?” Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbows to glare down at Derek.

There’s the Stiles he remembered. The one that would argue with him until they were both breathless. The one that would tell him he was wrong and that he stupid and his ideas sucked. Derek may not have won many arguments with Stiles, but he was damn well going to win this one.

“Because I said so.” Derek tilted his head. “Now do you want me to suck you off, or not?”

“God you’re a dick.”

Derek raised his brows and dipped his head down to wrap his lips around Stiles’ wet tip. The kid fell back against the bed and arched his hips with a low moan. Derek grinned over the victory. If he’d known getting Stiles to shut his mouth had been this easy, he might have tried to get into the kid’s pants sooner.

Flicking his tongue along the slit, Derek pressed his hand more firmly against Stiles hip to keep him still. He’d told himself he was going to take his sweet time, and no amount of Stiles throaty whines were going to sway him from that. He moved his lips to make a wet, hot trail from the tip to the base and darted his tongue out to swirl around Stiles’ balls.

“Fuck.” Stiles panted and strained against Derek’s hold on him. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Derek slid his hand from Stiles thigh to wrap around the base of his cock, and placed his lips around Stiles’ sack, sucking gently with just enough pressure to make Stiles squirm. He squeezed his hand and slowly pumped once, twice, then pressed his thumb against the head. Derek felt Stiles’ thighs flex under him and he keened, rocking his hips as much as Derek’s hold would allow.

“Fuck, Derek,” His whole body was tense and his torso twisted in the sheets.

Letting the skin slip from his mouth, Derek licked a strip up the length of Stiles cock to wrap his lips around the head and swallow Stiles down. The second he moved his hand from Stiles hip he thrust up into Derek’s mouth. Expecting the motion, but not the speed, Derek just managed to keep from gagging. The second thrust was easier, he tightened his lips and pressed the flat of his tongue against Stiles’ cock making sure to keep the movement of his head in time with Stiles’ pumps. Stiles hands tightened in Derek’s hair as he fucked into Derek’s mouth, and five thrusts later he was spilling down Derek’s throat.

Stiles sagged back into the mattress, panting, and his hands dropped limply beside him.

Derek let Stiles’ soft cock slip from his mouth and wiped the trickle of come and spit from his chin with the back of his hand. Licking the excess liquid from his skin, he watched Stiles with hooded eyes before climbing up to claim his mouth, darting his tongue into Stiles already opened mouth. Stiles reached for him with renewed energy, wrapping his hands around the base of Derek’s neck and pulling him closer.

When he tried to squirm down Derek knew exactly where he was trying to head, and gripped his arm to stop him. “No.” Derek said softly against his lips.

“Just let me – “

“No.” Derek murmured again, taking his time to nuzzle his way down Stiles jaw, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses as he went.

“Yes.” Stiles argued, even as he purred under the attention.

Derek might have held his ground if not for the steady thrum of Stiles’ heartbeat. He was calm, relaxed, and who was Derek to tell him no anyways if that was what he wanted to do? It was a cheap justification, but Derek rolled onto his back beside Stiles. If it was possible for him to get any harder, he would have from the sight of Stiles eagerly jumping to his knees and crawling between Derek’s legs.

Leaning his forearms across Derek’s thighs, Stiles wrapped one of his hands around the base of Derek’s cock and used the other to slowly stroke up and down his length. It was an image that Derek had fantasized about on many occasions, and it didn’t do the real thing justice. Not in the least. Derek squeezed his shut and focused on steadying his breathing. There was no way in hell he was going to come before his cock was in Stiles’ mouth, but damn if it wasn’t close when Stiles dragged his teeth lightly across his head, teasing, tongue darting out to collect the precome on the slit.

Tucking his arms tightly against his side to prevent him from grabbing Stiles head and just taking what his body so desperately wanted, Derek ran his tongue along his teeth and opened his eyes to watch Stiles every move. Stiles was focused on Derek, his hazel eyes peeking out just under his lashes. He kept them locked with Derek’s as he slipped his lips around the head of Derek’s cock and took him halfway down before pulling back up, causing Derek’s hips to instinctively jerk up. Seeking the sweet, wet inviting heat of Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of the head and the little shit had the balls to grin at him. A low growl worked its way from Derek’s chest and turned into somewhat of a deep purr as it moved up his throat. He felt Stiles shiver in response and swallowed Derek down again, working his tongue around Derek’s cock. Slowly, he took more and more, his throat constricting every time he went deeper.

Shifting to move one of his hands between them, Stiles palmed his balls and slipped a finger along Derek’s crack. The boldness was unexpected and Derek jerked up, feeling the head of his cock press against the roof of Stiles’ mouth. He groaned, his fingers shifting and his claw dug into his own skin.

The pain mixed with Stiles hollowed suction was enough to push him over the edge and pulled back enough to give Stiles room to move before he came. Stiles pushed forward, following him and catching what come he could.

Derek felt his hands shift back and lifted one to reach for Stiles, but he was already clambering up Derek plaster him with a sloppy kiss.

“See what you were missing out on?” Stiles huffed into him. “Do you realize how much better I would have been at this by now if we had done this months ago? I might have killed you.” He slipped his hands under Derek’s head to tangle his fingers through Derek’s hair. “I wouldn’t have been a complete asshole. And we’d probably be fucking by now. No, we would _definitely_ be fucking by now.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for taking care of me while I was sick <3


	6. Chapter 6

It took Derek two days to track down Peter in Newberry, a small town that was twenty minutes outside of Beacon Hills. He was living out of a sleazy motel room that was no way Peter’s usual style, but Derek supposed laying low meant adjusting one’s standards. Hiding was more accurate. Peter had evaded every one of Derek’s calls and texts, and he had Derek running in circles following his scent.

More annoyed than anything else, Derek rapped his knuckles on the motel door and tried not to think about all the better things that he could be doing –which definitely didn’t include Stiles. In no way did they include Stiles.

“Derek,” Peter drawled when he opened the door. “I was wondering when you’d find me.”

Derek shouldered his way into the small room. “Why have been you been dodging me?”

Peter held up one of his hands and closed the door with the other. “Please, come in.”

“I thought you were going to keep an eye on things.”

“No one’s ever accused you of beating around the bush, Derek.”

“Peter,” Derek growled, tired of putting up with his uncle’s evasive bullshit. He’d only dealt with that for months while he was away without being able to do anything about it, and if Peter thought he was going to continue to get away with it now that Derek was back in Beacon Hills, he had another thing coming.

“I did keep an eye on things.” Peter folded his arms across his chest. “Does it look like some big, bad bully stormed into town and hurt someone’s feelings?” That really depended on the definition of bully and feelings, because as far as Isaac was concerned Stiles had been bullying him for months. As if reading his thoughts, Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, Derek, surely you remember what it was like being in high school.”

The last thing Derek needed was a lecture on what high school life was like, especially for a werewolf.

“Boys will be boys,” Peter continued. “They fight fast and make up faster. It was nothing to worry about, so I didn’t mention it.” Apparently Isaac and Peter differed in their perspectives on that one. “If something terrible had happened, I would have told you.”

Derek nodded. He glanced around the small space. From the strong scent, Derek could tell Peter had been in the room for quite some time, possibly even the entire time Derek had been gone. He’d figured Peter would have stayed at the loft. It was a place to stay close to home, but Peter’s scent had been faint there, months old. Derek’s eyes landed back on Peter.

“Why are you hiding here?”

Peter huffed out a laugh and smiled. “I’m not hiding.”

“No?” Derek tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded his head towards the door. “You circle around six times before coming back to town. You’ve left nothing in this room, which means you don’t have to come back if it’s compromised. And you found the only motel within a hundred miles that still has oak doors to keep your scent locked inside the room.”

Peter shrugged. “In case you didn’t notice, there are still two alphas hanging around. I don’t plan on being caught off guard when they turncoat.”

“Have they done something to make you suspicious?”

“You mean besides coming into our city and trying to kill us? No, I suppose not.”

For a guy who murdered a bunch of people, including his niece, and then came back from the dead looking for acceptance, Derek thought Peter was being slightly hypocritical, but Derek was trying not to hold a grudge on account of Peter being crazy so he kept his mouth shut.

“Exactly how long do you plan on hiding out here?”

“I don’t know, Derek, until I get bored.”

Derek ground his teeth together to keep from growling again. Dealing with Peter was like dealing with a child. A particularly unpleasant child. “I need to know that I can reach you if something happens.”

“I will try to answer my phone the next time you call. Better?”

Not by a long shot, but Derek nodded and walked back to the door. He pulled it open and was about to leave when Peter spoke again.

“But it better not be about your boy problems.”

Derek had no doubt that Peter could smell Stiles all over him despite the fact that it had been two days since he’d been near the kid. He’d picked Isaac up from school the day before, but didn’t speak with Stiles or Scott. Scott had eyed Derek closely, clearly he’d smelled Derek all over Stiles, but that had been the extent of their interactions. Physically, anyways. Stiles had texted Derek at least every hour, most of which were sexual innuendos and the rest were just flat out ‘fuck me’ messages. Derek caught the small smirk on his uncle’s face and knew exactly what he meant.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Derek’s eyes flashed. “The last time I asked for you advice about a relationship someone ended up dead. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Stepping outside, Derek pulled the door closed, walked calmly back to his car, and then drove away. He didn’t let his heart skip a beat until he was sure he was far enough away that Peter wouldn’t hear it. He pulled the car over and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. What had happened in the past was Derek’s own fault. It had been his choice. But the idea hadn’t been his in the first place. Peter had put the thought in his head that Paige would have to be turned. And maybe Derek had never really let that go.

His phone vibrated and as he reached into his pocket to pull it out, he noticed the clock and smiled. 5:00pm. Right on time.

_I have an itch that I can’t scratch. Is that how dogs feel all the time?_

Derek rolled his eyes, but grinned, unable to help himself and fired a text back.

_Not all the time. Sometimes their owners hit just the. Right. Spot._

Stiles response was instantaneous.

_Srsly? That’s an invitation right?_

Derek tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and pulled back onto the road. It would take him another ten minutes to get back into Beacon Hills and he figured the kid could sweat for a little bit. For the past two days Stiles had been trying to weasel his way back into Derek’s house, and Derek had held off the attempts. He had wanted Stiles to have some space, and hopefully clear his head. Sure, Stiles had been more than willing, had initiated in fact, but Derek was still hesitant. Stiles had been surprised to find out Derek had been back in the city, and his head probably hadn’t been straight.

But now it had been two days. That had to be enough time to decide if you’d made a mistake And Stiles was still texting him, still sending him messages like the one he’d gotten that morning. _I came so hard this morning thinking about you fucking into my mouth._ How much longer was Derek supposed to give the kid to think about what he wanted? It was pretty clear to Derek what Stiles wanted.

When Derek pulled up at the loft, he wasn’t surprised to find the jeep already there. No one ever claimed that Stiles was a patient person. The idea that Stiles was in Derek’s house, waiting for him, had his cock hardening in his jeans. He couldn’t even remember if he’d locked the car, but by the time he made it up the stairs and was standing in his open doorway looking at Stiles sitting on his couch it didn’t matter.

Stiles stood up when Derek started to pull the door closed. “Sit down, Stiles.” Derek ordered. He knew how impatient Stiles was, and if the kid has his way, he’d be across the room tempting Derek before he had a chance to properly say hello.

“So, that wasn’t an invitation?” Stiles said after he dropped back down. Derek heard his heart hammer under his ribs as he walked closer. “Shit. I figured you were just being an ass and not answering me right away. This is embarrassing.”

“Stiles.” Derek sat down on the coffee table across from Stiles, their knees brushed.

“You don’t need to soften the blow.” He leaned back slightly, pulling away from Derek. “I get it. You probably had other plans, werewolf things to do. I shouldn’t have assumed. You know what they say about that. I should have just gone home. I’ll go home -”

Derek wrapped a hand around the nape of Stiles’ neck and pulled him forward to press his lips against Stiles’ still moving ones, effectively cutting the kid off from digging himself into a deeper hole. There were plenty of other good ways for Stiles to use his mouth. Stiles placed his palms on Derek’s thighs and leaned closer. The warm heat of Stiles’ hands on him shot right to Derek’s cock, and if the contact wasn’t enough, Stiles made a desperate whimper in the back of his throat that vibrated across his tongue.

Stiles broke apart. “It was an invitation then?” His hands slid up Derek’s thighs, thumbs dragging low, and one brushing his cock through the fabric of his jeans.

“Yes.” Derek tensed his legs, straining to keep still.

“You were just being ass?” Stiles scooted forward on the couch and leaned closer, pressing his lips against Derek’s collar bone. His hands snaked higher, sliding under the hem of Derek’s shirt to the top of his jeans. Stiles’ breath ghosted across his skin. “Teasing me?”

Derek’s hand dropped to Stiles’ back, holding him in place in case the kid decided to do some teasing of his own. “Yes.”

Stiles laughed softly. “You are so lucky that I have an itch to scratch.” His hands were steady as they popped open the button on Derek’s jeans and pulled down the zipper.

“Am I?” Derek figured that since Stiles had been here willing and ready, that he didn’t need to worry about Stiles being confused anymore. The kid wanted what he wanted and Derek wasn’t going to stand in the way of that anymore, not when they both wanted the same thing. So, really, Stiles didn’t have much leverage over him anymore, because Derek knew how to get what he wanted.

He brought both his hands down to the hem of Stiles’ shirt and pulled it up over Stiles’ head. Not wanting to miss a second of the skin on skin contact, he obliged when Stiles deviated from his current task to reciprocate and pull Derek’s shirt off. Derek kissed Stiles again, more forceful this time, and urged him farther onto the couch to lie back. He kept their lips pressed tight, sliding his tongue along Stiles’ as he followed him onto the couch with one knee between Stiles’ legs.

Breaking the kiss, trailing his teeth along Stiles’ jaw and down his jugular, Derek thought of how easy it would be to get used to this. Having Stiles anytime he wanted, because Stiles wanted Derek just as bad. No bullshit between them.

Stiles arched his back and his breath caught as he rutted against Derek’s thigh. Placing a hand over Stiles’ hip, Derek held him down. “Give me a minute, please.” He murmured against Stiles’ throat.

“You have exactly one fucking minute.” Stiles groaned.

Derek grinned against his skin and sat up, placing his hand around Stiles’ throat with no pressure. Yeah, he could get used to this. He moved his hand, slowly trailing it along Stiles’ skin until he came to the top of Stiles jeans. Making quick work of undoing them, he pushed himself back to pull them off Stiles’ hips, dragging his boxers with them, and sliding them over his ass. Once they were gone, Derek returned to his place, settling his knee back between Stiles’ thighs.

Leaning down with a hand on either side of Stiles’ head, Derek ran his tongue along the shell of Stiles’ ear. “I won’t stop you this time.”

“Derek.” Stiles whined. His heartbeat stuttered, embarrassed.

“Come one, Stiles.” Derek urged, nuzzling into his throat. He was so hard that he thought he might rip his jeans to pieces. “Fuck into me. It’s real easy to scratch that itch.” He dropped a hand to Stiles’ hip, not to hold him down, but to pull him up. Stiles choked back a moan at the feel of his throbbing cock rubbing against Derek’s jeans. Derek could relate.

“Shit.” Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and arched up, rutting himself against Derek’s thigh again. Derek placed his hand under Stiles on his lower back, half holding him up. The needy noises coming from Stiles’ throat only made Derek that much more desperate. He was ready to come with just that sound panting into his ear.

He could smell Stiles leaking, could feel the wet heat on his thigh. “Just like that, Stiles.” Derek coached, pressing Stiles closer with his hand, and causing his own cock to rub against Stiles’ thigh. He felt Stiles tense and wrapped his lips around the skin below Stiles’ ear to suck hard, feeling the flesh tighten in his mouth.

Stiles arched closer to Derek and moaned as his hips jerked and he came, spilling across Derek’s jeans. The fact that Stiles had just gotten off on grinding himself against Derek pushed him over the edge and he came in his jeans, biting Stiles’ skin a little harder than he’d intended. Stiles didn’t seem to notice. He sagged back against the couch, keeping his arms locked around Derek’s neck.

Letting Stiles skin slide between his teeth, Derek dropped down, careful of how much weight he placed on the kid. “Itch scratched?”

“Mmm.” Stiles hummed. “I’d love to return the favor, but I just don’t think I can move. I’m sorry.”

“I’m well taken care, thank you.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Stiles pushed at Derek. “You got off on that?”

Derek grinned. “It was hot.”

“You’re a sick werewolf.”

“Does that mean you’re going to get up and leave now?”

Stiles laughed. “No, I can’t move, remember? But don’t think I will forget this anytime soon.”

“I would be worried about you if you did.” Derek pushed up and stood. As much fun as that had been, wet, come smeared jeans were the most uncomfortable thing Derek had ever felt.

“Where are you going?” Stiles twisted on the couch to watch Derek as he walked towards the stairs.

“To change.”

“How about if you just lose the jeans and come back?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be having dinner with your father tonight?” Derek had known that from Isaac, but he wasn’t going to be bringing that up again since Stiles already thought he had Isaac spying on them. He turned back to Stiles.

“Good point.” Stiles groaned and threw an arm dramatically over his eyes. “Fine, you’ll be rid of me for now, but don’t think I won’t be back.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” At this point, Derek would be more ready to beg Stiles to come back. Not that he’d ever tell Stiles that. He waited for Stiles to dress and leave before heading up the stairs to get rid of his wet jeans and shower.

 

“What do you and Isaac do exactly?”

Derek glanced over to where Stiles was currently splayed across the couch looking at Derek with dark eyes. It was the first time that he’d brought up Isaac and Derek was instantly on alert. “What do you mean?”

Stiles shrugged. “Like, when you pick him up from school. What do you do together?”

It seemed like a simple enough question, but Derek knew it was anything but harmless. He sat up from where he had been lying on the floor doing sit ups. It had been a week since Derek spoke with Peter, and Stiles had been over every day since. Sometimes after school or after dinner on the days when Derek let Isaac come over. He’d been expecting Stiles to bring up Isaac at some point since all he got from Stiles when he picked Isaac up was a glare. He knew he needed to tread carefully.

“We talk.” He almost winced when Stiles’ eyes narrowed. Almost. “Not about you, you paranoid freak.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Mostly I just teach him things. How to control his breathing better, his heart rate.”

“Werewolf stuff.”

“Sure, let’s call it that.” The reality was Derek felt more like a counsellor than a mentor. Isaac always had some new story to tell Derek about what had happened at school, or at Scott’s house. Which reminded Derek that he needed to talk to Scott about his dad. The fed had become somewhat of a nuisance for Scott, and Derek wanted to make sure they weren’t in any danger of the FBI being alerted to supernatural creatures. The Sheriff knowing was bad enough

“What else would you call it?” Stiles sat up, eyes running appreciatively over Derek’s bare chest.

Derek sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know, Stiles.”

Stiles scooted forward to the edge of the couch. “I think I’m jealous.”

That earned a snort. “Believe me, you don’t have a reason to be.” It might have been hot, if not for the strange rivalry that had erupted between the two of them in his absence.

“Are you sure?”

Derek looked back up and saw the hesitancy in Stiles’ eyes. There it was again. That Stiles look. That sheer openness in his eyes that screamed out his emotions to anyone that looked into them. Derek couldn’t understand why Stiles had become so guarded. Or when. He couldn’t even pinpoint when Isaac had started talking about Stiles the fucking asshole instead of Stiles the nice guy that people took advantage of.

Pushing himself up off the floor, Derek stood and dusted his hands across his jeans. “Do you have a thing for Isaac?”

Stiles scrunched up his face and frowned. “No. Why would you even ask that?”

Derek shrugged. “You glare at me every time I pick him up. For all I know you’re pissed at me because he likes me and not you.”

“Me and Isaac? Ha.” Stiles lifted his head to look up at Derek as he walked closer and towered over Stiles on the couch. “That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard, and I had to have an entire conversation with Peter once.”

“Then believe me when I say, you don’t,” He ran a hand over Stiles’ head and gripped his hair to tip his head back farther, exposing his throat. “Have a reason to be.” His eyes trailed down to watch Stiles swallow as his eyes darkened and his pulse hitched.

Stiles eyes dropped to Derek’s crotch which was perfectly eye level. “I’m not quite convinced.”

Derek smiled. “You’re not huh?”

Stiles shook his head. “Nu huh. You’re gonna have to try a little harder.”

“Hmm.” Derek made a show of running his eyes down Stiles’ form and then glancing over at the couch. “We’re going to need more space.”

If Stiles needed a little reassurance, Derek was more than willing to give it to him. He’d waited too long to have the kid, and he wasn’t going to just let that go without a fight. Lifting his foot to place it on the edge of the coffee table, Derek pushed it gently and it slid halfway across the loft.

Stiles looked around the loft as much as he could with Derek’s hold still on his hair. “I think space is the one thing that is _not_ lacking in here.”

“Keep it up, Stiles.” Derek loosened the hold on Stiles’ head and knelt down in front of him, pushing his legs apart with a hand on each thigh. “Do you really want your mouth to get you into trouble right now?”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Derek lifted his eyes, a pale blue glow simmering at the edges of his irises. He grinned slowly. “Put it to better use.”

Stiles wet his lips with a small smile. “Promise?”

Instead of answering, Derek pulled Stiles’ shirt over his head and moved his hands to slowly unbutton Stiles’ jeans. Stiles leaned forward to press his lips against Derek’s. He opened his mouth willingly and let Stiles take the lead for once. The kid pressed forward, knowing Derek had given up something that he wasn’t used to losing. Stiles ran his tongue along Derek’s and lifted his hips when Derek slid his hands inside the back of Stiles’ jeans to grip his ass.

“Still not convinced.” Stiles muttered against Derek’s lips, the breathlessness of his voice giving away exactly how much of a lie that was.

Derek laughed softly. “Give me a minute. I can do better.” He pulled his hands away from Stiles’ warmth and stood.

“This is not better.” Stiles groaned at the loss.

Rolling his eyes, Derek snapped open his own jeans and kicked them off, enjoying the way Stiles’ eyes nearly went black with desire, irises swallowed up by pupils as he licked his lips again, his dark gaze dropping to Derek’s cock.

“You’re right, that’s better.”

“Not quite.” Derek returned to his place kneeling in front of Stiles and pushed him back with a hand on his chest so that he was reclining into the couch. He gripped the top of Stiles’ jeans and pulled them over his hips when Stiles lifted them off the couch. Stiles moved to sit back up, but Derek stopped him with a hand on his stomach, earning a groan from Stiles.

There were more than a hundred reasons that Derek could come up with as to why he was so drawn to Stiles, but the one the he really loved, the thing that drove Derek crazy, was Stiles’ impatience. It made him burn that Stiles wanted him, needed him, so bad that he literally vibrated under Derek’s touch. He wanted to let Stiles take over, but it would have to wait just a little bit longer. He wanted impatience to turn into desperation.

Making sure to keep one hand pressed against Stiles’ stomach, Derek wrapped his other hand around Stiles’ half hard cock. Squeezing just a little and dragging his thumb along the underside of the soft skin, Derek lifted his gaze to watch Stiles from under his lashes and felt his eyes completely shift.

“Fuck,” He heard Stiles whisper under his breath as he looked towards the ceiling, attempting to control himself.

When Derek dipped his head down to wrap his mouth around the tip, Stiles hands dropped to Derek’s head. No pressure. They just settled there with Stiles’ fingers twitching like he wanted to grip Derek’s head and fuck into his mouth hard and fast. The more Derek thought about that, the more he liked the idea. Stiles was now fully erect and Derek wanted nothing more than for Stiles to have whatever he wanted. Placing his hands on Stiles’ hips, he flicked his tongue back and forth across the slit of Stiles’ cock before slipping it around the bottom and tucking it close to his teeth. Derek lifted one of his hands and set it over top of Stiles’, forcing Stiles to tighten his grip.

Stiles took his cue, tightening both hands in Derek’s short hair and bit his lip as he tested pushing Derek’s head lower. Derek purred in the back of his throat causing his tongue to vibrate against Stiles’ cock. Stiles lifted his hips in time to forcing Derek’s head down and set up a rhythm that had him panting in short breaths. Derek closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of Stiles’ hands like vices pulling at his scalp as he fucked into Derek’s heat.

The slow pace that Stiles had set up began to falter. The lift of his hips got more and more out of sync as his got closer to his release. Knowing there was at least a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t, Derek let his fingers shift and felt them break skin where they pressed into Stiles’ waist. Stiles sucked in a lung full of air on a gasp as he came, shooting his load against the roof of Derek’s mouth.

Stiles released his death grip on Derek’s head and he pulled back, letting Stiles’ cock slip wetly from his lips. He rubbed his head, eyeing up Stiles’ smug face. “Satisfied?”

“Not even close.” Stiles sat up fast and pushed Derek back, forcing him to sit back with his knees tucked into his chest on the floor, his hard cock straining against his stomach. Stiles slid off the couch onto his knees and crawled towards Derek, forcing him to move even farther to lie on his back, and stopping when he’d straddled Derek’s torso, hands on either side of his head and his ass nestled just close enough to Derek’s cock to make him tense.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah yeah.” Stiles leaned in close until they were nose to nose. “I know. You’re protecting my honour. You know that’s only going to last for so long, right?”

Derek did know that. Stiles was a pushy little shit when he wanted something, and Derek wasn’t even going to try to pretend that it wouldn’t be Stiles that ultimately decided when and where that was going to happen. But Derek wasn’t going to let him know that. He lifted his head and kissed Stiles hard, wrapping his hands around Stiles throat to prevent him from pulling away. The little shit had the balls to wiggle his ass lower, rubbing his ass against Derek’s throbbing cock and he dropped his hands, breaking the kiss on a groan.

Moving quickly before Derek could grab him again, Stiles pushed himself lower, dragging his stomach across Derek’s cock, causing Derek to groan again and drop his head onto the floor with a thud. By the time Stiles’ hands ghosted across Derek’s sensitive skin he was nearly ready to start begging. Stiles pressed the flat of his tongue against Derek’s head and started pumping him slowly. He alternated between dragging his thumb lightly on the upward motion and pressing it hard on the downward. His kept his tongue where it was, swirling it around the head and wrapping his lips around it to suck gently.

Derek made sure to keep his arms at his sides, his hands were still shifted and his claws scratched at the wood floor. He felt his balls tightening and lifted his head to look down at Stiles, crouched between his legs, lips wrapped around his cock with his dark eyes staring up at Derek. His hips jerked, thrusting further into Stiles mouth as he came, eyes locked with Stiles’.

Sagging back onto the floor and dropping his head back down, Derek let his eyes fall closed. He could feel Stiles moving against him, his lips pressing against Derek’s hip. He could hear Stiles’ heartbeat, slow and steady. As his fingers and eyes shifted back to human, he felt Stiles’ teeth sink into the skin on his hip.

A few seconds later he felt it again, this time farther up his side and Derek hissed. Then again just under his ribs. He looked up. “Would you stop that? What are you trying to do? Eat me?”

“Well I’ve already done that.” Stiles didn’t even look up. He dipped his head again and bit the same spot. “They just keep disappearing. How the hell am I supposed to mark up my territory with your freaky werewolf healing powers?”

Derek dropped his head back down with a sigh. Dog with a bone. That was the only thing Derek could think of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and the patience. 
> 
> Special thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for knowing when to kick my ass and when to coddle me. Check out her finished fic titled Lead Me Wild (which I don't know how to link) if you enjoy a great plot with a dose of hot sex!


	7. Chapter 7

It was Thursday. Which meant that Stiles was having dinner with his father and he’d left Derek alone to – in Stiles’ words –‘brood and stuff’. Stiles had been over that afternoon though, and before long they’d wound up naked and writhing on Derek’s bed. Stiles had been straddling Derek’s torso, jerking himself off and Derek couldn’t pass up the opportunity to slip his hands behind Stiles and tease his hole. Stiles had come hard and fast across Derek’s chest and when he finally stopped shaking from the force of his orgasm he’d looked at Derek with a knowing grin and whispered _you’re caving_.

What Stiles didn’t know what that Derek’s resistance was just a pretence. Derek would have fucked Stiles on the very first night if Stiles had really pushed for it.

Derek shifted in his car seat, repositioning himself and attempting to focus on the task at hand. The ‘and stuff’ that Stiles had mentioned happened to be inside the veterinary clinic that he was parked in front of. And avoiding going into. He had a ball sitting in the pit of his stomach and it was just getting worse the longer he sat in his car.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Derek pushed the car door open and stepped out into the cool night air. He focused on controlling his heartbeat as he walked towards the door. The kid was seventeen for Christ’s sake, and just because he’d become an alpha by his own will didn’t mean Derek couldn’t still kick his ass.

A bell chimed when he walked into the small space of the waiting area, and Deaton appeared moments later.

“Derek.” He smiled politely. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to speak with Scott, is he here?” It was a dumb question. All three of them knew that Derek could hear Scott’s steady heartbeat in the back, could smell his scent, and that Scott could hear everything they were saying. Making it more awkward was that Derek just remembered that Scott would have heard his car pull up and heard his very unsteady heartbeat for the past ten minutes.

Deaton pulled the gate open, and inclined his head towards the back. “He’s just finishing feeding.”

Derek nodded his head on the way by. He’d just try to keep everything casual. He was here to talk about Scott’s dad and nothing more. There was no reason for it to be anything more. Only Scott didn’t see it that way.

“You hurt him, and I’ll kill you.” Were the first words out of Scott’s mouth. He didn’t look up, and Derek took every single word to heart.

“I’m glad we got that out of the way.” Derek leaned against the door jam and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m actually here to talk about your father.”

That caught Scott’s attention. He looked up from where he was pouring a ten pound bag of dry dog food into a large container. “What about him?”

“Stiles says he’s been nosing around, trying to find out more about you.”

“And?”

Derek shrugged his shoulders. “And I want to make sure the FBI isn’t going to be raiding the city at some point looking for werewolves.”

“The most my dad knows about me,” Scott finished pouring the contents of the bag and set it on the floor. “Is that I don’t talk when he’s around.”

“Good to know.” Derek watched Scott’s movements. They were determined, overly focused and too slow for a werewolf giving it away that Scott was just as nervous as Derek. “You’re concentrating too hard.” he said before he realized what he was doing.

“What?” Scott straightened after he pushed the full container of dog food under a shelf.

“When you want to control your heart rate, you need to internalize more. You’re putting too much focus into your external movements and not enough on your internal, and its making your motions awkward.”

He could tell Scott was two seconds away from arguing by the way his shoulders tensed, but his eyes flicked to the side and when they returned to Derek’s his shouldered relaxed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Derek didn’t move from where he leaned against the door, Scott lifted his brows. “Was there something else?”

There hadn’t been. At least Derek had tried to convince himself that there hadn’t been. The whole drive over he’d repeated over and over that he was not going to bring it up. “How long has Stiles been…” And that was most certainly _not_ not bringing it up.

“Forceful?” Scott tilted his head. “Aggressively hostile?”

Derek nodded. He’d thought that Scott might have gotten accustomed to the behavior, but clearly it still stood out to him.

“Are you asking because you’re worried about Stiles?” His eyes darkened. “Or Isaac?”

“Can’t I be concerned about them both?”

“I guess.” Scott shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t even remember. Before the eclipse. It was just like, one day he was still Stiles, and the next he was just angry. Not all the time,” Scott leaned down to rest his elbows on the steel table. “But it would come out at the most random times, and then he’d be fine.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” They had talked about that already. Scott knew that if something had happened he could have called.

“Say what?” Scott scoffed. “That Stiles was acting strange. What would you have done? Dropped your sister and run home?”

They both knew he wouldn’t have. He would have fought coming back _because_ it was Stiles. Because he needed to stay away from getting tangled up in that mess. No one was hurt or dying. And Isaac had already told him all the sordid details of the way Stiles was acting and he hadn’t come back. Yet, somehow, he had still ended up in that mess.

“Besides,” Scott continued. “Deaton told us we would be different after the ritual. Maybe this is how Stiles deals with what’s tearing him up inside.”

“What?” That was the first Derek had heard about the ritual. “What do you mean different?”

“The kind of power that we tapped,” Scott stood up and seemed to shake something off. “It left a mark. Deaton said we’d feel a darkness in us.”

Christ. He’d been so concerned about Cora that he hadn’t even asked for the details of the ritual. Three of them had been dealing with it the entire time Derek was gone and he didn’t even know.

“I’m sorry, Scott.” He should have looked out for them better.

Scott shrugged again. “It’s not your fault. Besides, maybe you being back will help.”

Derek choked out a laugh. “That would be a first, wouldn’t it?” He pushed off the wall. “Keep me posted on your father, okay?”

Scott gave him a sarcastic salute. It was little wonder why he was best friends with Stiles. Derek imagined that there were quite a few battles of sarcasm in their history. His phone went off and he pulled it out of his pocket.

_Come get me ;)_

“What?” Derek said when he pocketed his phone again and could feel Scott’s stare.

“Nothing.” Scott attempted to hide his shit eating grin and failed.

And that had been exactly what Derek was trying to avoid. He walked out without another word and by the time he made it back to his car his phone had buzzed two more times. Getting in the car and starting the engine before he pulled the phone back out, Derek groaned and dropped his head back.

_House all to myself._

_How about we pick up where we left off this afternoon?_

How many times was he supposed to say no? Because he was holding on by a thread and he had the feeling that Stiles knew that and was just counting down the minutes until Derek broke down. He wasn’t going over. He had to brood and stuff. And that was what he had every intention of texting back to Stiles when he got home. Only he didn’t end up back at home, he ended up parked just up the street from Stiles’ house and no matter how much he argued with himself his traitorous legs took him out of the car and kept walking until he was in front of Stiles’ house.

The window was open and Derek effortlessly jumped up to the ledge and hauled himself in. The room was littered with books and missing Stiles. Derek snarled. The goddamn tease. Like he wasn’t expecting Derek to rush over. He was in the house though, Derek could hear him in the shower.

Dropping into the room, Derek crouched and picked up two of the many scattered books. One was a medical book on anxiety and the other was a new age book on sleep aid. Derek frowned and set the books on the desk before picking up two more; _Sleep Deprivation and Disease: Effects on the Body, Brain and Behavior_ and _Sleep Psychiatry_.

Scott hadn’t mentioned anything about Stiles having problems sleeping. But of course Stiles would be researching it. Trying to figure out what was wrong with him, if he could fix it. The kid really was a genius.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

Derek hadn’t heard Stiles get out of the shower, hadn’t even heard him walk down the hallway. He looked up. Stiles had a towel around his shoulders – that was it – and his cock was already half hard. Derek nearly swallowed his tongue. “Yes you were.” He looked around at the contents of the room. “What’s all this about? Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble sleeping?”

“Because I’m not anymore.” Stiles walked forward, slipping the towel from his neck and tossing it onto the back of his desk chair. “Did you really come here to read?” He took the books from Derek’s hands and tossed them back onto the floor. His arms snuck around Derek’s neck and he stretched to brush his lips across Derek’s. “Or did you come here to fuck me?”

Derek’s nostrils flared. Any thoughts of questioning Stiles further flew out the window and he darted forward to capture Stiles’ mouth fiercely. Sliding his hands around Stiles’ back, Derek gripped his bare ass and lifted him, only letting him go when he’d moved close enough to the bed to drop him onto the mattress.

Stiles scrambled up onto his knees and reached for Derek’s shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth move. Less than a second later his hands dropped down to Derek’s jeans as he leaned forward to wrap his lips around one of Derek’s nipples.

Sucking in a breath, Derek grabbed at Stiles’ hands and in a last ditch effort said with a voice that was nowhere near convincing. “You know we can’t without – “

“I have it.” Stiles shook his hands free of Derek’s grip and moved around him to pull open his dresser drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. “I had to guess at the size, but” He licked his lips and grinned. “I’m pretty sure I have it memorized by now.”

Of course the kid would have them. Why invite someone over to fuck you if you weren’t prepared? And Stiles prided himself on being prepared. Derek’s heart hammered in his chest, and for once he was glad that there weren’t any werewolves around so that he had to try and control it, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

“Lie back.” He took the bottle and box from Stiles and with a hand on Stiles’ shoulder gently pushed him back. He dropped the bottle onto the bed beside Stiles and opened the box to tear one of the packets free. Dropping the box back into the drawer, he placed the condom beside the bottle and unbuttoned his jeans. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Stiles replied instantly, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Derek remove his pants.

“One hundred percent?” Derek kneeled on the bed and crawled up between Stiles’ legs, listening closely to the beat of Stiles’ heart. If it waivered Derek would pull back.

“One hundred and ten percent.” Stiles’ heart remained steady and his eyes dropped to Derek’s lips. He moaned when Derek rocked his hips forward to rub their cocks together.

“Good.” Derek ran his tongue along his teeth before nuzzling into Stiles’ throat. He couldn’t think of a single reason why they shouldn’t, so he just stopped thinking about it. “Flip over.” He growled into Stiles’ ear and pulled back far enough for Stiles to comply.

The kid moved fast, tucking his legs up to roll over. He stayed on his hands and knees until Derek leaned over him and gripped the back of his neck to push Stiles gently down, still on his knees with his ass in the air, but his head and shoulders pressed against the bed.

“Stay like this.” Derek ordered as he let go of Stiles’ neck to reach over and pop the top of the lube container open, noting that it wasn’t the first time it had been opened. “Stiles,” Derek whispered lowly. “What have you been doing?”

“Well, I just figured it would be easier.” Stiles mumbled into the mattress. “If I was used to it, you know?” He pressed his hands onto the back of his head like he was trying to smother himself as he groaned.

The thought of Stiles lying in bed fucking himself on his fingers had Derek’s pulse quickening. He ran a palm up Stiles back and leaned over him to pull his hands away from his head. “What did you think about?”

Stiles groaned again and wiggled under the pressure of Derek’s body on top of his. “Come on, Derek, don’t…”

“What did you think about, Stiles?” Derek said forcefully in his ear, sliding his dick across Stiles’ crack and skimming his fingers along Stiles’ cock.

Stiles gripped the sheets and moaned. “You.” He panted. “Jesus, you know I was thinking about you.”

He did, Derek grinned and bit down lightly on the back of Stiles’ shoulder, but it didn’t hurt to hear it out loud. Pulling back, Derek reached for the lube and drizzled a heap into his palm. He warmed it with his skin before parting Stiles’ ass and teasing his hole. The sound Stiles made, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, had Derek dropping his forehead to Stiles’ lower back. The kid was so vocal and every noise, every hitch in his breath had Derek’s blood boiling.

Reaching his free hand around Stiles’ waist he wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock and rubbed his thumb up and down the length as he pressed one finger slowly into Stiles’ hole. Unsure of which way he wanted to move, Stiles hips jerked forward and then stuttered back quickly. Derek could hear Stiles’ slow his breathing as he forced his body to relax, and he moved his hand up slowly to press his thumb against the head of Stiles’ cock.

As Stiles arched back, Derek pushed another finger inside Stiles he heard the kid whisper “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” under his breath. Derek scissored his fingers and bit down on the soft flesh of Stiles’ hip. “Derek,” He whined, arching again into Derek’s touch.

“Almost.” Derek lapped at the red welt. He wanted to push Stiles until he couldn’t think straight, until nothing else mattered. He pumped his hand up and down Stiles’ cock slowly and slid a third finger into Stiles, reveling in the way Stiles’ entire body shook with need when he curled his fingers.

“Derek, stop.” Stiles whimpered and reached a hand down to halt Derek’s hand jerking him. “Come on, I’m so close.”

“Alright.” Derek pulled his fingers out and gripped the back of Stiles’ leg. “Flip back over.” He moved far enough away to grab the condom packet while Stiles scrambled to turn onto his back. He watched Derek closely as he slid the condom up his length and leaned forward. He pushed Stiles’ legs up so the back of his knees rested on Derek’s shoulder. “This okay?”

Stiles nodded, his nostrils flared and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. “Yeah,” He breathed out.

Tucking in close, Derek positioned the head of his cock against Stiles’ hole and pressed in slowly, giving Stiles time to adjust to the feel. Stiles legs tensed on Derek’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer. Derek kept one hand on Stiles’ hip and the other pressed firmly against the bed beside Stiles’ rib. By the time he was completely inside Stiles, the kid’s body was tense and shaking and his throbbing red cock begging for attention.

Derek moved his hand from Stiles’ hip to his cock and when he finally started moving, slowly pumping in and out, he jerked Stiles with the same slow rhythm. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Stiles’ face. The play of raw emotions had Derek’s breath hitching and his fist moving faster on Stiles’ cock.

Stiles’ hand gripped Derek’s arm and his back arched off the bed. Just as Stiles threw his head back against the mattress, Derek caught a glimpse of his eyes darkening, the whites of his eyes consumed by a black haze. Derek’s mind blanked and he was just about to reach up and grab Stiles’ neck, certain that he’d being seeing things, when Stiles tensed under him.

 “Fuck, Derek!” Stiles groaned as he spilled across Derek’s hand and his own stomach.

Stiles’ ass spasmed against his cock, gripping it tight and pushing Derek over the edge. He panted hard and pressed closed to Stiles, letting Stiles’ legs fall from his shoulders and dropped his head to Stiles’ chest. He stayed like that for a minute feeling Stiles ass still flexing around him before he remembered the way Stiles’ eyes had gone dark. Black. They’d gone black.

Pushing himself up, he reached for the back of Stiles’ neck and pulled his head up so Derek could see him. His eyes were closed. “Stiles?” He asked hesitantly as he rubbed the muscles in Stiles’ neck.

When Stiles finally opened his eyes they were his usual hazel, a little brighter than normal, but Stiles’ eyes. “I don’t know about you, but that was fucking fantastic for me and I’m really sorry we didn’t start that sooner.”

Derek huffed out a laughed and dropped his head back down on Stiles’ collar. Stiles reached a hand up to run along Derek’s sweat slicked back, dragging his nails lightly across the skin. As Derek listened to the way Stiles’ heartbeat quickly returned to normal, he couldn’t help the feeling of unease that sat in the bottom of his stomach and the nagging sense in the back of his mind that something was wrong.

 

The sound of Scott’s heartbeat in Derek’s ears came was a surprise as he rounded the last leg of his morning run. It was nine in the morning, and according to what Derek knew of Stiles schedule, Scott should have been in English and not standing in front of Derek’s car as he currently was when Derek came around the front of the building.

It had been a little over two weeks since he and Stiles had had sex in Stiles’ bedroom, and although he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something not quite right about the entire situation, he and Stiles were still together every day. Mostly at Derek’s, but occasionally at Stiles’ when his father wasn’t home. The morning after they’d had sex, Derek had returned to Stiles’ bedroom after dropping the Stiles off at school. Derek had let himself into the house, knowing that the sheriff would be home at any time, and went through all the books that Stiles had scattered across his room. He had taken a few of them, and when Stiles hadn’t noticed them missing, he’d slowly been replacing them and taking different ones. Every night he’d read through an entire book, trying to figure out exactly what Stiles had been searching for.

Classic Stiles, he had flagged all the pages that must have had some kind of significance for him. Most of the saved pages had to do with sleep deprivation, sleep walking, night terrors, behavioral anger issues, and memory loss. So far Derek had come up with nothing except that Stiles was trying to deal with some kind of emotion inside himself that he was unable to understand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Derek asked when he got closer to Scott.

“I’m taking a sick day.” Scott fake coughed.

Derek raised his brows and headed into the building. “And your mother actually fell for that?”

Scott fell into step behind Derek. “Well with everything that’s going on, I’m pretty sure she just felt bad for me.”

From what Derek knew and saw about Melissa McCall she was intuitive and would do anything for her son, so he’d be willing to believe she’d seen right through the act and knew Scott needed a day to himself. He pulled open the door to the loft. “What can I do for you, Scott?”

“We need to talk about Stiles.” Scott said calmly as he pulled the door back closed. His voice may have been calm, but his heart was anything but.

Without turning around, Derek headed straight to his fridge to grab a bottle of water. The conversation could have been about any number of things. Scott could be worried about Isaac, or he could have wanted to clarify further on what he’d do to Derek if Stiles got hurt. “What about him?” He cracked open the bottle and finally turned to look at Scott, who had his arms folded across his chest.

“Did Isaac tell you what happened in our Chem lab on Tuesday?”

As far as Isaac had told Derek, he’d had an uneventful week. Stiles hadn’t brought up Isaac since Derek convinced him that there was no secret crush on Isaac, and Derek wasn’t in the habit of bringing up that particular topic. “No.” He lifted the bottle of water to his lips, the cool liquid soothing the burning in the back of his throat.

“He and Stiles were lab partners. Voluntarily. Isaac thought it was Stiles’ way of a peace offering.” Scott paused. “There was an accident.”

Since Derek had seen both Isaac and Stiles since Tuesday, he knew both of them were fine, but the way Scott stood in the middle of the loft, shifting on his feet had the hair on the back of Derek’s neck standing up. “What happened?” And why the hell was Scott just getting around to telling him this now? Three days after the fact.

“They were measuring one of the liquids and it spilled across Isaac’s arm and hands. It burned his skin on contact.” Scott must have seen Derek tense, because he rushed on. “He healed almost as quickly as it had happened, and they were able to convince everyone there had just been water in the beaker.”

Derek might have relaxed at their luck, but the way Scott’s shoulders heaved told Derek the real reason that he was there. “You don’t think it was an accident.”

Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Before the eclipse there would be no doubt in my mind that it was, but – “ He cut himself short, like there was something else he wanted to say. “He’s different.”

“What else?” Derek wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Scott was worried, and since he hadn’t called Derek earlier when Stiles had first started acting up, then that could only mean that things were getting worse and not better. Whatever was wrong with Stiles, he wasn’t dealing with it like he tried to make everyone believe.

“It’s nothing.” Scott insisted.

“Scott.” Derek growled.

The young alpha pinned Derek with a look that clearly stated that even though Derek was older, he wasn’t an alpha anymore and couldn’t force Scott to do anything. Derek refused to back down – a trait that had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion, but since this involved Stiles, he didn’t really care.

“Look, it’s really nothing,” Scott sighed. “When it happened, and everyone else was looking at Isaac, I looked at Stiles and…”

Derek knew. He knew exactly what Scott had seen and it felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. “His eyes,” Derek said slowly around the sour taste in his mouth. “they were black, weren’t they?”

Scott’s eyes snapped to Derek’s. “I thought I was just imaging. It was just for a second, and then they were normal. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done it on purpose and it’s been eating at me since.”

“I’ve seen it too.” Derek said quietly and set the bottle of water on the table. He’d thought about all the times that he and Stiles were together, and that night in Stiles’ room hadn’t been the first time that his eyes had gone that dark. Derek just hadn’t realized it at the time, because he’d been so concerned about having his own fucking sexual needs met.

“What does it mean?” Scott stepped closer, seeking an answer from the only experienced supernatural being in his life. Scott was searching for answers in the wrong place, because Derek had no idea what it meant.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I’ve been reading the books that Stiles had in his room and I can’t make head or tails of it. All I know is that he knows there’s something not right about him, and my best guess is that it has something to do with the ritual you did on the eclipse.”

“Have you looked on his computer?”

There was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Derek. All the books had just run him around in circles. Memory loss could be caused from sleep deprivation which could be caused by stress which can be caused from emotional turmoil that comes from memory loss. He hadn’t even considered that Stiles might have more information saved on his computer. Not that he knew how to get into Stiles’ computer.

“Do you know his passwords?”

“Best friends.” Scott stated like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world that he would know Stiles’ passwords. Peter had been Derek’s closest friend growing up, and there was no fucking way in hell he’d have shared his passwords with his uncle. “You’ll need to get him out of his house.”

“Where do you think he goes after school every day?” Derek prided himself in being able to state the obvious back at Scott, who gave him an unimpressed face in return. “Just make sure you look through everything. There’s got to be something on there.”

Scott nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the reviews. It's lovely to hear your thoughts on the chapter <3
> 
> Special thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) who may not remind me that it's post day, but at least encourages me to make smart choices.


	8. Chapter 8

It was well after four o’clock, and Stiles didn’t normally run late. It gave Derek too much time to rethink the plan he and Scott had come up with. He’d been pacing back and forth across the loft for the better part of thirty minutes. Sure, he and Scott were worried about Stiles, but did that really give them a reason to go snooping through his things? But then again, Stiles must have known that Scott knew his password – and if he really didn’t want Scott to be going through his computer he would have changed the password, right?

Derek couldn’t help the tension vibrating through his body. So when his phone rang from across the room he tore across the space to answer it without looking at the ID. “Stiles?”

“Nope.” Scott whispered.

Derek paced back towards the couch, unable to remain still. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me.” Scott snapped. “I thought you said he would be gone by now.”

“He usually is.”

“Well he’s not!” There was a hint of panic in Scott’s voice that had him hissing over the phone. “He left and then came back. Text him or something and get him out of here. I’m gonna get caught.”

“I can’t do that.” Derek bit off. So much for their brilliant plan. “I never do that. It would seem out of character. He comes when he wants to.” In more ways than one. Which Derek should not be thinking about right now.

Scott groaned. “This was the dumbest idea ever.”

“You just need to relax, okay?” Derek rubbed his eyes and tried to calm his own nerves. “He will leave, and you’ll be fine.”

“How the hell do you know he’ll leave?”

If Scott’s voice got any louder Stiles would find him. “Because I know.”

“You’re that good?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

The pause on the other end of the phone told Derek that Scott absolutely did not want to know. He could hear Scott breathing and could just make out the sound of Stiles moving around in his bedroom. A small thud here and there. Faint enough that Derek figured Scott was safely tucked away in another space in the house.

“I think he’s leaving.” Scott whispered a few minutes later. “I’ll text you later.” He ended the call without giving Derek a chance to answer.

Tossing the phone onto the couch Derek ran his hands down his face. He wasn’t sure what they were going to find, but he hoped it would be something to put their minds at ease. Though now that he thought more about it, Derek couldn’t think of a single reason why Stiles wouldn’t have told someone – especially Scott – if he had found a reason for the erratic behavior he’d been displaying over the past months. Stiles _knew_ something was wrong. That was the only explanation for all the books he’d had scattered around his room. Unless of course he hadn’t found a reason and he was just as confused as everyone else in his life.

Circling the room a few more times, Derek was just about to call Scott and tell him to forget the computer when he heard the sound of the jeep rumbling up to the building. He rubbed his eyes one more time and tried to justify his and Scott’s actions to himself in hopes of settling the knot of guilt gnawing in the pit of his stomach. But by the time Stiles reached the door and blasted Derek with a smile, the guilt had only worsened.

“Hey,” Derek smiled back at Stiles and tried not to think about how strange he must have looked just standing beside the couch. Like he’d been doing nothing but waiting for Stiles. Which he had been.

“Hey,” Stiles mimicked as he pulled the loft door closed. “What’s going on?”

“Just waiting for a call from Peter.” The lie slipped so easily off his tongue that Derek knew without a doubt that he was the worst person in the world. There was absolutely no way that he was about to spill that Scott was currently at Stiles’ house rifling through his stuff. But he wanted to.

Nodding his head as he walked across the loft, Stiles didn’t stop until he was in front of Derek. “Anything important?”

“No,” He didn’t need to lie twice and even as he reached for Stiles, his stomach twisted again. Wrapping a hand around Stiles’ wrist, Derek pulled him closer and settled for making it up to Stiles the only way he knew how. He pressed his lips against Stiles’ and brought his other hand up to wrap around the back of Stiles’ neck. The kid melted under him, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue along Derek’s lips.

Derek stepped around the coffee table without breaking contact and urged Stiles to move with him as he sat down on the couch, shifting so Stiles could straddle his legs. He’d almost managed to forget about everything else except the sound of Stiles’ breath hitching and the movement of his hands along Derek’s chest when Stiles pulled back.

His hazel eyes bore into Derek’s. “Wait,” He fidgeted in Derek’s lap. “I didn’t want to bring this up – ever. If fact, this is the last thing I even want to be thinking about, but I can’t stop and it’s going to drive me crazy. And I know you’re going to either freak out or think I’m acting like a girl, but nothing will be worse than how I’m feeling right now. Literally nothing.” He sucked in a breath and Derek tried to keep up. “Can we talk?”

Derek blanked. “Talk about what?”

“Really?” Stiles’ shoulders dropped. “Talk about, you know…” He waved his arms back and forth between their bodies. “This.”

This. As in them. The guilt hit him ten times worse. Derek was lying to Stiles, and invading his privacy in a conspiracy with his best friend, and Stiles wanted to have a relationship talk. Could the day get any worse?

“Okay.” Derek replied slowly. “What exactly did you want to clarify?”

“Is this a mutually exclusive thing?”

Derek prayed that this didn’t have anything to do with Isaac again, because he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to deal with that. The look on Stiles’ face came across as genuinely concerned. Over the past few weeks Derek had been careful of the things he’d said around Stiles, and how he worded things, but with everything else he was worrying about he decided to stop. If Stiles could be blunt then so could Derek.

“I’m not having or planning on having sex with anyone else. If that’s what you’re asking.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah,” The worry had dissipated from his eyes and was replaced with a glint of mischief. “You know though…I wouldn’t mind having my own drawer.”

Derek raised a single brow. “Is that right?”

“Well,” Stiles scooted his hips forward, and leaned closer to speak softly into Derek’s ear. “A clean pair of jeans would be nice to drive home in when you don’t get my pants off fast enough.”

The sarcastic comment that had been on the tip of Derek’s tongue dried up. He knew Stiles was only trying to annoy him, to lighten the mood that he seemed to think he’d ruined, but Derek couldn’t exactly argue with his logic. “That’s a valid point.” He slid his hands under Stiles’ shirt to run them along his heated back. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Stiles dipped his head to press his lips against Derek’s jaw and Derek let his eyes slip closed. The feel of Stiles’ fingers digging into the short hairs at the back of his neck had his eyes shifting and he let the slow, wet glide of Stiles’ lips loosen the knot in his stomach. By the time Stiles’ mouth got to Derek’s, he didn’t care about anything but the fact that Stiles was straddling him. Derek felt the steady thrum of Stiles’ heart against his palms as he pulled the kid closer, tucking him so that they were chest to chest.

Derek grinned against Stiles lips. Scott needed Stiles to be distracted for a while so he might as well enjoy himself. 

 

Scott disconnected the call without waiting for Derek’s response and listened to Stiles heavy, quick footsteps as he jogged down the stairs. He waited until the front door slammed shut and he heard the jeep pull out of the driveway before pushing the closet door in Stiles’ dad’s room open. Even though he knew the house was empty – could hear it, smell it, feel it – he crept out of the bedroom and down the hall to Stiles’ room. There was a strange smell hovering in the air – like something his mom had cooked with before, deep and spicy – but other than that nothing seemed to be different from the last time Scott had been there.

It didn’t feel odd being in the room without Stiles or his dad in the house. He’d done it plenty of times in the past. Like any best friend he’d snooped through Stiles’ things before, and knew Stiles had done the same to him. The unnerving part was that he was trying to find something to incriminate Stiles. At least that’s what it felt like.

Figuring the computer was his best bet, Scott flipped the top up and turned it on as he pulled the chair over to sit down. Derek had said he’d already gone through all the books from the library so that left the laptop as their last place for answers. Whatever Stiles had been hiding didn’t matter. Scott just wanted to help, or at least be able to understand.

Getting into Stiles’ computer had been easy enough. He hadn’t changed his password since he bought it four years ago – JetfireLovesEarth. Scott had tried to tell Stiles to have numbers in it so it was harder for people to break in, but he refused to believe anyone would want to hack into his computer. Boy had he been wrong.

The first thing Scott did was pull up the internet and check the history, which was empty. He opened the favourites bar instead and skimmed down the list. Quite possibly the longest list Scott had ever seen in his life. He had about ten sites in his own favourites, maybe, and couldn’t grasp the concept of having over a hundred.

The links ranged from newspapers to music downloads to something labeled ‘Man Stuff’, which Scott didn’t think was that subtle but he made sure to keep the cursor off them. He didn’t want to know. About halfway down the list he found a link to a PDF version of the bible. Stiles had never been religious, and as far as Scott was aware his mother hadn’t either. The link opened and brought up the PDF, which had two tagged pages. Scott flipped to the first and saw that there was a passage that was highlighted – _Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour_.

Scott glanced over his shoulder. A cold chill ran down his spine as the highlighted phrase echoed in his head. He wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean, or why Stiles had picked it out, or why Stiles was reading a bible for that matter. He rubbed the back of his neck and flipped to the next tagged page; it also had a single, highlighted passage on it – _Then brought unto him one possessed with a devil, blind, and dumb; and he healed him, insomuch that the blind and dumb both spoke and spake and saw_.

“What are you thinking, Stiles?” Scott read over the passages again. It didn’t make him feel any better.

There was nothing else that he could see saved on webpages so Scott closed the screen and flipped through the documents saved on the hard drive. He came up empty handed again. Glancing across the desk, Scott noticed a brown notebook sitting on the edge. He closed the laptop and scooted the chair over to grab it. Stiles only used notebooks for taking notes in class, and the little bound book was definitely not something he’d use for school notes.

The first page was blank when Scott opened it and he sighed. He and Derek had been so sure they’d find something and so far the only thing Scott had found were some creepy bible passages about the devil. Idly running his thumb along the pages of the notebook and flipping the book open and closed, Scott eyed the room hoping to spot something that was out of place or new. He couldn’t find one thing except the notebook in his hands. Black scribbles caught his attention when he glanced back down at it while he let the pages slip by his thumb. He flipped through the book until he found the pages that had been written on about a third of the way into the book, as though Stiles had just yanked the thing open and wrote in the first page he could find. Classic Stiles, Scott should have known better.

His eyes searched the pages as his mind tried to make sense of the scribbles. They weren’t even close to sentences. The notes, if you could call them that, were nothing more than seemingly random words written aimlessly all over the page and were connected with lines and arrows. There were six pages in total. The first page had Stiles’ recent behaviors listed: aggression, memory loss, time loss. The lines that he had drawn between them were cyclical, as though he thought they were all connected. Scott hadn’t even realized that Stiles was having memory loss. Stiles had only told him about one incident, but from the scribbles on the next page it became clear to Scott that Stiles hadn’t been telling him even a fraction of what had been happening. Stiles had been missing hours at first, and then more and more frequently he was missing days. He’d also connected the sleepwalking with the time loss.

Scott flipped the page again and his heart thundered against his ribs when he looked at the bolded words in the centre of the page: **BLACK EYES**. Stiles had lines connecting that to ‘aggression’ and ‘mirror’. Scott didn’t know what that meant, but he had a sinking feeling that there was something more wrong with Stiles besides a side effect of the ritual. Flipping to the last page, he read over the words ‘protection’ with arrows stemming from it onto ‘cloves’ and ‘betony’. Scott sniffed the air again and realized that the strange smell in the room had been cloves. He pulled out his phone and googled betony. A purple herb used for medicinal purposes. He scrolled down farther to see that it was believed to be used to ward off bad dreams.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Scott placed the book slowly back onto the desk and stood up to walk over to the bed, his phone clutched firmly in one hand. He licked his lips and reached down with a hand steadier than he felt to lift Stiles’ pillow. There, laying pressed against the mattress, was a dried, dark purple flower. Scott’s phone vibrated in his palm and he dropped the pillow back to the bed.

“Yeah?” He answered when he lifted the phone to his ear.

“You need to leave. Stiles is on his way back to spend the night with his father.” Derek’s curt voice came across the line.

“Okay,” Scott answered calmly. He didn’t know how, because his body was vibrating and his mind was racing, but he managed to open the notebook back up and take pictures of the pages. He made his way down the stairs and had just pulled open the back door when he heard Stiles’ jeep pull into the driveway. He slipped out the door, clicked it shut and disappeared into the bushes behind the house before Stiles had even gotten out of the vehicle.

On his way back to Derek’s through the woods Scott went over all the things that he’d found. And as much as he wanted to focus on the problem – like why Stiles had black eyes – he couldn’t get past the idea that there had been something seriously wrong with Stiles for months and Scott hadn’t clued in. Sure, he knew that Stiles had some anger issues, but Scott had just assumed that he was dealing with everything since the eclipse. Stiles hadn’t said anything about reoccurring memory loss. The majority of the time Stiles had been Stiles. Thinking back on it now though, Scott could remember at least a half a dozen times when Stiles had asked questions that he should have known the answer to. Like where he’d parked the jeep after school, or if he’d been at lacrosse practice.

The longer Scott thought about it the sicker he felt. He should have realized that there was something going on. Stiles was his best friend and Scott should have known something wasn’t right.

By the time Scott got to Derek’s he could barely hear anything over his own hammering heartbeat. The loft door was open when he reached the top floor and Derek was waiting with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

Obviously Scott needed to work on the whole controlling-your-heartbeat thing. “He’s known,” Scott said slowly as he walked into the loft. “He’s known for months.”

“Known what?” Derek asked, pulling the door closed behind Scott.

“Known that something was wrong!” Scott turned, his voice on the edge of hysterical. “He knows about the black eyes. He’s connected them somehow to the anger and _time loss_. I didn’t even know about the time loss, Derek!” He threw his hands up uselessly.

“Scott.”

“He’s got weird plants under his pillows and crazy scribbles all over a notebook and bible passages about devils.”

“Scott.” Derek strode over to him and gripped his shoulders. “You need to calm down, okay?”

Derek’s eyes were glowing blue and he was staring at Scott as though he was about attack him, and Scott was half a second away from yanking free of Derek’s grip when he noticed his own vision had gone red. He looked down at his hands that had shifted into claws and took in a slow breath as he returned his gaze to the older wolf’s. It’d been a while since Scott had lost control without realizing it.

“You okay?” Derek’s eyes had lost their glow.

Scott took one last deep breath and nodded, his vision returning to colour. That out of control feeling was something Scott didn’t miss. The next breath he took calmed his nerves, and the one after that slowed his heart back down to a manageable pounding.

“Tell me what happened.” Derek ordered gently.

“I didn’t find much on his computer.” Scott started as Derek marched him towards the couch. He explained the PDF bible and then moved onto the notebook. “Here,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to show the photos to Derek. “He’s not okay, Derek. There’s something _wrong_ with him. And those passages on his computer…”

Derek flicked through the photos, his jaw tensing the longer he stared at them until he finally handed the phone back to Scott. “So, what? You think Stiles is being controlled by the Devil?”

“I didn’t say that.” Scott snapped. “It’s not like we have a handbook for these kinds of things.”

Derek paused for a moment. “Actually we do.” He pulled out his phone.

“Who are you calling?” Scott narrowed his eyes.

“Chris Argent. We need to see the bestiary.”

Scott leaped forward and snatched the phone from Derek’s hand. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Derek looked pissed, but kept his voice neutral and calm.

“Because Allison wouldn’t like it.” He knew how that sounded. It sounded like he was still whipped by his ex-girlfriend that was now not-so-secretly dating one of his friends and pack members. But he remembered all too well what it was like when his mom had been kidnapped by Jennifer. He would have done anything – _did_ do anything – to keep her safe. And he would do anything to keep her out of danger now. He knew Allison felt the same way about her dad, just as Stiles felt the same way about his.

“I don’t care about Allison, Scott.” Derek held his palm out, expecting Scott to just hand him back the phone.

“You don’t know what it was like, Derek. Not being able to find the one parent that you have left and wondering when they were going to die.” Scott pleaded. “We don’t need to involve Mr. Argent. Allison can get the bestiary.”

Derek’s lips thinned and his nostrils flared, and for half a second Scott thought he was going to say no. But he nodded his head. “Fine. By tonight.”

The worry in Derek’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Scott. Neither did the heady scent of sex that was floating around the loft when he had entered. And for the first time Scott clued into exactly why Derek was so worried. If Stiles hadn’t been in his right mind since Derek had been back it changed everything about their newfound relationship.

“Right now.” Scott replied and handed Derek his phone back before pulling out his own.

As Scott had assumed, Allison was grateful that he’d stopped Derek from contacting her dad and had been more than willing to find the bestiary and bring it over for them to look through. She just hadn’t been able to tell them when that would be since her dad was at home, cooped up in the office where he kept the bestiary. So, Scott had spread out across the couch to play Tetris on his phone while Derek paced across the loft. Scott kept his eyes trained on the screen, but his ears wouldn’t focus on anything other than Derek’s slow, steady heartbeat. Exactly five seconds between each beat, every time. No one’s pulse was that perfect. Now he understood what Derek had meant at the vet clinic when he had told Scott he was being obvious about concentrating too hard. Derek was keeping his heartbeat slow, even, and perfectly measured and instead of making him appear calm it just drew attention to the fact that he was trying so hard to control it. 

On Scott’s fifth game and Derek’s hundredth time between the window and the coffee table, Scott heard the low rumble of Mr. Argent’s SUV. Derek’s heart pumped three times fast and Scott sat up, putting his phone away. “We don’t even know if we’ll find anything, Derek.”

“I know that.” Derek replied from where he stood in the middle of the loft with his arms folded across his chest.

“We don’t even know what we’re looking for.” Scott stood, his own heart still pounding against his ribs even after trying for the past hour to calm it. “Or if there’s even anything _to_ look for.”

“I know,” Derek growled.

Scott moved across the small space to pull open the loft door when he heard Allison’s footsteps coming up the stairs. He’d had a hard time letting Allison go, but over the past couple of months he’d stopped trying to get her to change her mind. And he couldn’t have been more grateful that she had actually answered his call earlier or Derek might have pushed the issue of contacting her dad.

He smiled at her when she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hey. This really means a lot.”

“Hey,” She returned his smile as she walked closer, her eyes squinting at the corners in that way that made Scott’s stomach clench. “You said it was about Stiles. What’s going on?”

“Scott seems to think Stiles is being controlled by the Devil.” Derek said sarcastically and tilted his head. “Isn’t that right, Scott?”

Scott pulled the loft door closed and rounded on Derek. “Just because you’re afraid that you’ve been taking advantage of him doesn’t mean you get to be a jackass.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Derek seethed.

“You’re scared it’s not Stiles, just like I am.” Scott strode down the steps and stood in front of Derek. “Only I haven’t been screwing him for the past three months.”

Derek’s nostrils flared. “No, you’ve just been ignoring the problem for seven.”

Scott tensed and his vision went red. “And you didn’t care enough to stick around.”

Derek’s hands shot out and gripped the front of Scott’s shirt as his eyes shifted to match Scott’s.

“Guys!” Allison yelled, rushing over and pushing them apart with a hand on both their chests. “There’s nothing about the Devil in the bestiary.” Scott and Derek both looked at her, their eyes slowly losing the werewolf glow. “But there is something called a _Daimon_.”

Scott flicked his eyes back to Derek as the older werewolf lost control of his heartbeat. Moving his gaze back to Allison as she dug around in her bag to pull out Gerard’s USB stick, Scott tried to push his own panic back down his throat. “What is that?”

“It’s Greek,” She looked up, offering the stick to Derek. “For Demon. And they don’t just control you, they possess you. What?” She said at Scott’s stare. “I’ve had a lot of time to read.”

Scott remembered how much information had been saved on the stick when they had been looking for information on the Kanima, and most of it had needed to be transcribed. He’d thought Allison had spent her time with Isaac while she’d been avoiding him, but apparently she’d spent quite a lot of time researching.

“When did you start reading dead languages?” Scott didn’t even bother to keep the awe from his voice.

She smiled again. “I figured with our lives it would come in handy.”

“What else can you tell us about this thing?” Derek went to grab his laptop from the shelf.

Allison shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“What do they look like?” Scott asked quickly.

“Well, demons don’t have a corporal form.” They walked over to the table where Derek had set up the computer. “And the mythology shows that there are only certain people that can see a demon’s true form, and even then, only if the demon presents itself.” She leaned over the computer once Derek plugged in the USB and pulled up the file. “Gerard never actually encountered one, and by the sounds of it he wasn’t even sure they were real, but all the accounts he documented described the host having black eyes.”

Scott looked up at Derek whose lips had formed into a tight, thin line and he stared knowingly back at Scott. They’d been searching for answers, but like himself, Scott knew Derek wasn’t prepared to hear what Allison had just said.

She looked back and forth between them and said slowly. “What?”

“What else does it say?” Scott asked, tearing his gaze away from Derek’s to look back at Allison.

She frowned, but pointed to a passage on the screen that Scott couldn’t read. “Depending on who you ask and what religion you’re researching, demons can be good or bad. We all know Gerard’s fixation with pain, so he tended to focus on the bad.”

“What do they want?” Derek forced out.

“Like I said, it depends who you ask, but Gerard’s conclusion was that they thrive on chaos.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, what’s with the looks? What does this have to do with Stiles?”

Derek shot Scott a silencing look, but after all the help that Allison was giving them he figured she deserved to know what was going on. Stiles was walking around town and went to school with them, so if he was possessed by a demon, Scott would rather someone else know besides him and Derek.

“You know Stiles has been acting strange since the eclipse.” Scott waited for Allison’s nod. It wasn’t a secret that the usually patient Stiles had been replaced with a short tempered version. “Derek found out a while ago that Stiles had been researching some of his symptoms.”

“His hostility?”

“More than that.” Derek straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s been sleep deprived, lost time – “

“Woken up in strange places.” Scott added.

“Sleep deprived?” Allison scrolled through a few more pages on the computer. “This,” She pointed at a passage. “Describes how the demon takes over a host. If the host isn’t vulnerable enough for possession the demon wears the host down physically and mentally through deception until the resistance is gone. If Stiles was physically and mentally exhausted he may have been vulnerable enough for possession.”

There wasn’t any doubt in Scott’s mind that Stiles had been exhausted. Some days he’d been walking around like a zombie and Scott would call his name five or six times before Stiles even acknowledged his existence. The sleep walking and the nightmares could have been used to wear Stiles down. The whole time Stiles had been struggling to keep control and not one of them was able to help him. He’d been all alone.

“How do we get rid of it?” Scott wasn’t about to let a demon get away with walking around in his best friend now that they knew what was going on.

“Scott,” Allison turned her worried gaze to him. “We don’t even know if this is true. You can’t just assume –“

“How, Allison?” Scott said firmly.

She sighed. “I never finished translating it, because Gerard was convinced it was myth. Over a hundred investigations and he never came up with any solid evidence.”

Derek removed the stick and handed it back to her. “Can you finish it? We need to know if there’s a way to test him. And how to get rid of it, if we need to.”

Allison nodded and slipped the USB back into her bag. “It’ll take me a few hours.”

Derek smiled tightly. “The sooner the better.”

“I’ll walk out with you.” Scott said and nodded at Derek. He made sure to keep his distance from Allison as he walked out of the loft with her. When he slid the door closed, they started down the stairs and Allison shifted her bag on his shoulder.

“Do you really think Stiles is possessed by a demon?”

“I don’t know.” Scott answered honestly. He didn’t want to believe it. Demons were a whole new level of supernatural than what they were used to dealing with, and the idea of demons being a real thing only made Scott worry more about what was out there and what might be coming for them in the future. But he figured it was better to deal with one problem at a time. “He’s not okay. So, if it’s not this, it’s something else.”

They walked out into the cool evening air and Scott opened Allison’s door out of habit. She gave him another smile and slipped into the car. “I’ll try and have it translated tonight and let you know what I find tomorrow.”

Scott nodded. “Thanks.” He gently closed the door and stepped away from the SUV to watch her pull away. He didn’t know what to expect for tomorrow, but he hoped that it would be good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the appreciation to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for giving me a pocket watch that doesn't tell time, but sure looks pretty. Hopefully it will remind me to post on time next week!


	9. Chapter 9

It was fourth period and Allison sat on the floor by her locker with her legs tucked up to her chest and an unopened biology textbook resting on her thighs to pretend that she was studying during her free period. She had tried to find Scott at lunch to tell him what she had finished translating, but he’d been missing and everyone she had talked with had told her he had left the school with Stiles. As much as she tried to tell herself that Stiles hadn’t had any violent outbursts towards Scott, she still felt a nagging sense of worry about the two of them being alone together.

She looked towards the main school doors for the tenth time in two minutes and hoped that they would be back soon. What made things worse was that she knew that they didn’t have a free period – they should have been in math. Drumming her fingers on the textbook, she went over what little details Gerard had had in the bestiary about demons.

Demons were masters of manipulation. They thrived on chaos and because they had no corporal form they relied on people to do their dirty work. People who couldn’t move or think or feel when the demon finally took over, and Gerard had argued that they might as well be dead. There wasn’t any mention of what happened to the people after the demon was expelled because Gerard hadn’t been able to find a single case where the demon was successfully exorcized. Which had led to his ultimate conclusion that had demons been real, there didn’t exist a way to remove them without killing the host in the process.

Scott would need to know that. She’d considered texting him last night, but didn’t want to worry him prematurely. They didn’t even know if Stiles was possessed. Allison tapped her fingers on the textbook again and glanced down the hall when she heard the metal doors clatter open. Two girls that Allison didn’t recognize walked in and the doors creaked shut. She needed to find Scott and Stiles so that she could try out the only thing that the bestiary had about forcing a demon to come to the surface of the host.

She jumped as the bell ending fourth period echoed through the empty halls. Quickly gathering up her books from where they were scattered on the floor around her, Allison stood up and shoved them into her locker before slamming it closed. Nothing mattered except finding Scott and as she turned to leave she collided into Isaac’s chest.

His hands came up to her shoulders to steady her. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” Allison replied with a tight smile. She hadn’t told Isaac about Stiles yet, and even though Scott hadn’t asked her to keep it quiet, she didn’t feel like she should. Isaac was Scott’s pack and any problems involving the pack should come directly from Scott. “Have you seen Scott?”

There was a flash of worry in Isaac’s eyes. It always happened when Allison mentioned Scott’s name. The insecurity flared up, and Allison knew well enough now to know that it was an unconscious reaction that Isaac didn’t even realize was happening. He blinked and the look was gone. “Yeah, we just had math together.”

“He was in class?” They must have come back into the school and she had been so wrapped up in thoughts of demons that she’d missed them. “What about Stiles?”

“Yeah. They both were.” He shifted his bag on his shoulders and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Allison said quickly. “Scott had just asked for my notes from history from when he was sick a couple days ago.” She hated lying to Isaac, but they needed to be sure about what was happening to Stiles before they went off telling everyone about it. The last thing Stiles needed in one of his paranoid, aggressive moods was to be accused of being possessed. That would only serve to escalate their bad situation to something worse.

“I think he was headed to bio.” Isaac dropped his hands back to his sides.

“Great, thanks.” She swung her bag over her shoulder and turned to leave before she swirled back around and pecked Isaac on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

She pushed her way through the crowded hall as students made their way back to their lockers to grab their things for fifth period. She was determined to find Scott before class started and she couldn’t help the sliver of annoyance that he’d been shadowing her for months and the one time she needed to talk with him he was nowhere around. Typical.

She caught sight of Scott’s bag turning around the corner to the biology lab, but Stiles’ voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning, she saw him talking with Lydia, Ethan and Aidan. The twins were leaning against their lockers. Lydia had her arm entwined with Aiden’s. And Stiles had his back to Allison. She wouldn’t have a better opportunity, and even though Scott would have told her not to do anything on her own, she whispered under her breath.

“ _Christo_.”

Stiles flinched. He dropped his head quickly to finish his words with the other three and then looked over his shoulder. His black eyes pierced into Allison’s and she took a step back as her throat closed up. She hadn’t been expecting it, in fact she almost had herself convinced that they were all just reading too much into Stiles’ moods and he was dealing with the eclipse in his own way. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away, quickly darting through a group of students. It didn’t matter if Scott was in class, or if class had started. She needed to find him and they needed to get to Derek’s.

The first biology lab was empty and Allison checked behind her as she quickly made her way to the second. Stiles was nowhere in sight, but it didn’t stop the panic from bubbling in her chest. She was about to check the next lab when Scott rushed out of a lab further down the hall. He met her halfway.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to leave.” She grabbed his arm and started hauling him toward the nearest doors. “Now.” 

“What about Stiles?” He protested, but he allowed her to keep pulling him. Even though his heart was telling him not to leave his best friend, he trusted Allison and listened to her.

“I’ll explain once we’re out of the school and on the way to Derek’s.”

He didn’t ask any more questions after that. They left the school and once in the parking lot they took Allison’s car since Scott had ridden in with Stiles. Scott didn’t open his mouth again until they were almost at the loft and Allison figured that it was because he knew they were close enough that Derek could hear every word.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I finished the translations last night.” She gripped the steering wheel and kept her eyes trained on the road, unable to look at Scott. “There’s no mention of how to kill it or get it out.”

“And?” Scott’s hand shot out to catch himself on the dash as Allison whipped around the corner leading up to Derek’s. “Come on, Allison. You’re not in a panic about that.”

No, she was in a panic because there was most definitely a demon inside Scott’s best friend and she couldn’t tell him how things could look any worse for them. “It mentioned a word that could force the demon to the surface – _Christo_.  It’s the only thing that Gerard could find for proof of possession.” Parking the car, she finally turned to look at Scott. “And when I said it to Stiles in the hallway his eyes turned black.”

Scott unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. “Did he say anything to you?”

“No.” Allison answered when she rounded the vehicle and they made their way inside. “But the look he gave me…Scott, he looked _wrong_.”

“I know.” Scott mumbled. He placed a hand on the small of her back as they climbed the stairs. The warmth seeped through her shirt and the closeness help to calm her nerves. She wasn’t looking forward to the next conversation. The bestiary had been helpful with the kanima, but there wasn’t a lot of information about demons and she knew that Scott and Derek would want answers that she couldn’t give them.

By the time they made it to the door Scott had gotten tense and she figured it was probably because he could feel Derek’s agitation. Scott pulled the door open and Allison walked in. Derek was standing by the bay windows looking out with his arms crossed.

“Derek?”

Something about the way Scott said his name made Allison leery about stepping closer to Derek. Scott seemed to think he was a bomb waiting to go off, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near him when it happened.

Derek didn’t look at them. He remained staring out the window as though he didn’t care that they were even there. “What else did you find?”

Allison swallowed the lump in her throat as Scott looked over at her expectantly, eyes hopeful. “I’m sorry.” Her heart thundered against her ribs. “There wasn’t anything else.” She prayed that it would be good enough and they would just accept that so she didn’t have to tell them everything. But, of course, werewolves knew when someone was lying and Derek may have been willing to let it go, but not Scott.

“What did you find?” He stepped closer, invading her space threateningly, completely at odds with how understanding he’d been earlier. Allison wasn’t surprised by the change; she knew what Stiles meant to him. Scott would do a lot more than intimidate an ex-girlfriend if he thought it would help Stiles.

“Scott…” She said softly, willing him with her eyes to drop it.

“What?”

The amount of trust that he had shown her when he left the school without Stiles, listening completely to her when she’d said they needed to leave, was her undoing. She couldn’t keep things from him when it was something this important.

“There is no way to get the demon out,” she said quietly. “And even if you could…” She shook her head. “Stiles is gone.”

Scott looked at Derek. He still hadn’t moved, was still staring out the window like they didn’t have a complete crisis on their hands. Scott tensed and turned back to Allison, his brows drawn tight. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

She shook her head again and looked up, blinking away the rush of tears that she didn’t want to feel. Tears were useless. They weren’t going to fix the situation, and they certainly weren’t going to help with what she had to say next. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and counted backwards from five. When she got to one she returned a steady gaze to Scott.

“A human soul and a demon can’t survive together in one body. Once the demon takes full control, there’s no coming back.”

“What are you saying?” Scott choked. “That Stiles is dead?”

“Scott, I – “

He stepped toward her and grabbed her shoulders. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Scott.” Derek’s voice was clipped. “Let her go. She did what we asked.”

Scott’s hands dropped. He may have been an alpha, but he still trusted Derek. Allison brought her hands up to rub her shoulders. She felt helpless. The bestiary had been their best lead, and although Allison had just gotten used to reading Latin, she was certain all her translations were correct. The information collected in the bestiary hadn’t explicitly stated that the host died, but that was pretty much a given when there were no entries about the host being able to recover. She wanted to tell them that there was some way to bring Stiles back, but there was no point, because as far as all the information they had went, Stiles was as good as dead.

She stepped closer to Derek. “What are we going to do?”

Derek turned to face them for the first time since they entered the loft. He dropped his hands and strode closer. “You said there’s no way to get it out? You’re sure?”

If only he knew the extent of that internal conversation. “Yes.”

“Then we kill it.” He said coolly.

“What?” Scott gaped. “No! Are you fucking crazy? This is _Stiles_. In what fucking world is it alright to even suggest that?”

“You heard her.” Derek’s blank eyes landed on Scott. “Stiles is gone. And this thing lives off of chaos and pain.”

“No.” Scott said firmly. “We don’t even know if that’s true. Since when do we believe what Gerard says without doubt?”

“The bestiary was right about the kanima.” Derek stated.

“Then we wait,” Scott ground out. “We know what we’re dealing with now and we can look for more information.”

Derek shook his head. “Allison got it to come to the surface. It knows that she knows, and by now, that we know.”

Scott was about to argue again, but Allison took a step toward him and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. “He’s right, Scott,” she said softly. “When it looked at me,” she paused. “It hated that I had found out. It hated me.”

“Hate is such a strong word.”   

Allison’s heart slammed against her chest at the sound of Stiles’ voice. She looked up to see him leaning against the wall on the second floor. Stiles’ eyes – still brown – carefully assessed the three of them on the main level. She’d sworn the jeep had still been parked at the school when she and Scott had left and, even if Stiles had rushed after them and driven over, the two werewolves should have heard him coming.

“I would have gone with annoyed.” He pushed off the wall and slowly made his way to the top of the stairs. “Aggravated.” He stepped down onto the first step. “Disenchanted.”

She was too shocked to say anything in return and from the silence beside her it was clear that Scott and Derek had been equally caught off guard. Stiles stepped off the last step and onto the hardwood of the main floor. He looked at all three of them before continuing.

“I must have missed the invitation to this pack meeting. And poor Isaac,” He tsked. “I mean, did you even stop to think about how he’d feel being left out of this conversation?”

“Who are you?”

Scott’s voice startled Allison. She didn’t know what they were supposed to say or how they were supposed to act. She didn’t even know what they should be expecting. They were nowhere near prepared for this confrontation, had barely had a chance to process what had happened. Yet, here Stiles was, or whatever it was that was currently controlling Stiles’ body.

Stiles walked forward quickly, his hands extended, pleading. “What are you talking about – it’s me, buddy, your best friend.”

Derek stepped in front of both of her and Scott, shielding them. “Stop it.” He snapped.

Allison glanced down to see that Derek’s hands had shifted, but were still clenched and his claws were digging into his palms. Three minutes earlier he’d wanted to find Stiles and kill him, and now that Stiles was right in front of him Derek held back. Unable or unwilling to follow through with his genius plan.

“Alright, alright.” Stiles’ lips curled into a malicious grin and he held up his hands. “I can see the gig is up. But you have to admit,” His eyes trailed over each of them, teeth still flashing. “I had a good run.”

“Who are you?” Scott asked again, moving to stand beside Derek.

“Ah ah,” Stiles wagged a finger. “Who I was doesn’t matter anymore. And just for the sake of consistency you may continue to call me Stiles. It’s grown on me.”

Allison didn’t like the sound of that and from the growl low in Derek’s throat he didn’t either. It sounded permanent, and regardless of what she had told Scott and Derek she wasn’t willing to believe that the real Stiles wasn’t still in there somewhere.

“What’s the plan here, Stiles?” Scott asked. “The game’s over. You’ve had your fun.”

Allison had no idea where his calm demeanor had come from but she was grateful of it. Her own heart still thundered in her chest and she didn’t think that it was going to stop anytime soon.

“You know,” Stiles smiled fondly as he dropped his hands and began to circle them. “It’s so easy to convince people that they’re okay. Sure, Stiles was scared at first, but with every idea I placed in his head he slowly began to believe they were his own thoughts. He just needed to be broken a little bit more for him to give up to me. And now,” Stiles looked down at his hands and flexed them. “Well, now it’s just me.”

“What does that mean?” Scott’s voice cracked.

Stiles continued without acknowledging him. “That part was fun. Twisting Stiles to my will. But it was too easy.” They all turned as Stiles continued to circle them, making sure not to have their backs to him. “Of course, then there was the whole time spent afterwards when not one of you could see that it wasn’t even him anymore.”

Allison swallowed and allowed herself to take her eyes away from Stiles for a minute to look at Derek. She could see his body vibrating with barely restrained rage. There had to be a way to fix this. If she could just get to the bestiary she’d read through it again, search until she found something, anything, that they could use.

“I’d like to think I’m that good, but honestly, I’m starting to believe that none of you paid that close of attention to our dear Stiles.” He stopped moving and shrugged. “The cat’s out of the bag now. But Scotty,” He smirked. “The game is far from over.”

Derek snarled and lunged, arms outstretched as he swiped at Stiles’ chest. Stiles laughed and jumped backwards, hopping up onto the coffee table. “Now now, Derek. I know you’re a party crasher, but you wouldn’t want to ruin the fun prematurely.” He looked around the room and hummed thoughtfully. “We seem to be missing a few.” Blinking, his black eyes landed back on them. His face lit up with a haunting smile. “I’ll go round them up.” And he disappeared.

Allison gaped at the empty space that Stiles had occupied a second before. “Did that just happen?”

Scott’s eyes searched frantically around the loft, and Derek took a few calming breaths before his body shifted back to its human form. “We need to go find the others. Now.” Derek ushered them towards the door.

“Isaac’s still at the school.” Scott said as he yanked open the loft door.

Allison rushed out first, looking back as she made her way down the stairs. “Lydia will be at home by now.” She had a double spare in the afternoon and would always leave the school to go home and study.

“Scott, you and Allison go to Lydia’s. I’ll get Isaac.”

Scott nodded and Allison could tell that he didn’t like the idea of taking the car when he could run faster, but also knew that he wouldn’t leave her alone either so they were stuck taking the vehicle or forcing Derek to make it to the school and Lydia’s.

“Scott,” Derek called from the treeline as they were getting into the SUV. “Be careful.”

Allison watched Derek disappear. They’d stop at her house on the way back after they’d gotten Lydia and grab the bestiary. There had to be something in it that could help them. As she drove away from the loft, she prayed that they would find Lydia before Stiles.

 

Derek sprinted through the woods. It was easily the quickest way for him to get to the school and find Isaac before the demon did. Besides the little information that the bestiary had been able to provide, they had basically no idea what they were dealing with. Clearly the demon had some way to travel that they didn’t understand. It had gotten into the loft without using the doors and had been able to get past both his and Scott’s senses, and as he thought back on it he couldn’t recall hearing Stiles’ heartbeat at all.

A fresh wave of nausea hit Derek at the thought of Stiles not even being alive, but something using his body to walk around in. He tried to push it to the back of his mind and focus on getting to Isaac. After the demon had taunted them with how it’d been running around in Stiles’ body for some time Derek had wanted to rip himself to pieces more than the demon. Everything it said had been right. They should have known. They should have seen that something was wrong. Maybe they had known something was wrong. Maybe Derek had known something was wrong, and he ignored it because of how badly he wanted Stiles and since Stiles had been reciprocating those feelings, Derek had ignored all the other stuff.

He hit a tree with his shoulder to slow himself down and dropped to his knees as his muscles clenched. He tasted the acid before it even bubbled up his throat and he heaved up the contents of his stomach. Without hesitating, he stood up on unsteady legs and started running again, wiping his mouth with his arm. He’d fucked up and he wasn’t going to let something happen to anyone else because of it.

“Derek.” Stiles’ voice whispered through the trees.

Derek slowed to a stop. Thanks to his werewolf senses, he knew that the voice had been whispered from a ways away, probably five or six miles. If the demon was near it meant that it wasn’t with Lydia or Isaac. That left Derek with two choices. He could keep running and lead the demon to Isaac, or he could stay and keep it away from the rest of the pack. He kept his feet firmly planted and scanned the forest around him. He seemed to be alone, until he heard Stiles’ voice again.

“Derek.”

“What do you want?” Derek shouted.

“I think that’s been made quite obvious.”

Turning quickly, Derek watched as Stiles slowly made his way through the forest from about thirty feet away. He stopped just shy of ten feet from Derek, tucking his hands into his pockets and for all appearances looking like Stiles, except for the black, empty eyes watching Derek closely. But Derek still couldn’t hear a heartbeat. He couldn’t smell Stiles. In fact, the lack of nothing is what stood out the most. The last time that Derek had been alone with Stiles none of those had been missing. Stiles had a heartbeat and a smell and everything else that Derek recognized as Stiles.

“What? Me?” Derek folded his arms over his chest. It sounded ridiculous. It was ridiculous.

“You’re sorely lacking in the self-worth department.” The demon cocked Stiles’ head. “But then, you always have, haven’t you?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

The demon laughed, cocking Stiles’ head to one side. “Oh, Derek, I know everything about you. Because Stiles knew everything about you. Everything he knew, every thought he’s ever had – and believe me, there were many – every memory, experience, and feeling Stiles has ever known, I know.”

That hadn’t occurred to any of them. That the demon would be able to know everything in Stiles’ mind. Derek tucked the information away. The best thing he could do now would be to try and get as much information from the demon as he could. He ignored the earlier jab at his self-esteem.

“I find it hard to believe that you’d jack the body of a teenager just to get in my pants.”

Stiles smirked. “You were all too eager to get into this teenager’s sweet ass.”

It took all of Derek’s strength to keep from lunging, from tearing the smirk off Stiles’ face. Whatever was currently walking around with Stiles’ body, it was still Stiles. It looked like him and sounded like him, and as much as Derek wanted to violently hurt the thing that had taken up residence inside Stiles’ body, he still held back.  

“I suppose you want to know what he’s thinking.” Stiles didn’t move from where he stood, the smirk firmly in place.

Derek clenched his fists, the beginnings of claws digging into his skin. “He’s not in there.”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed, and when he brought his eyes back to meet Derek’s they weren’t black anymore. They were a shining, golden brown. Stiles’ eyes.  “You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you?” He took a slow step forward.

Allison had said the translations from the bestiary hadn’t mentioned anything about a possessed human being able to remain alive. In fact, Gerard’s notes had stated he didn’t believe the host would be able to survive at all. They’d been operating under the assumption that Stiles was dead. If what this thing was saying was true, Stiles was still inside. Still alive. Still conscious of everything that was going on around him, and helpless to do anything. Derek’s stomach dropped, and acid rose in his throat again.

A knowing glint appeared in Stiles’ eyes. “Are you remembering all those _naughty_ things you did?” He moved closer. “Would you like to know how Stiles felt about them?”

“I’m going to kill you.” Derek growled, taking a step forward. His hands were almost completely transformed.

“Ah ah ah.” Stiles waggled a finger. “Let’s not lie to each other.” He leaned in close. “It’s a bad way to start a relationship. But I suppose we started our relationship a long time ago.”

Grabbing the front of Stiles’ shirt with one hand, Derek held him tight and brought his other hand back. Stiles flicked his wrist and something stopped Derek from slamming his fist into Stiles’ smug face. His muscles were frozen, and he couldn’t move.

 “I know you’d love to do many things to this little package, but ruining it isn’t one of them.” Stiles pulled easily out of Derek’s hold, but didn’t step away.

Derek was still paralyzed. “What are you doing?” He strained, put all his strength into moving just one of his muscles, but he couldn’t even do that. 

“Luckily for you, I enjoyed myself immensely.” Stiles ignored him and lifted a hand to place a finger on Derek’s chest. Slowly, he trailed it lower until he dipped it in the front of Derek’s jeans. With a blink, black eyes replaced Stiles’ brown ones. “And I plan to keep enjoying myself for some time, but don’t worry.” He leered. “Stiles is enjoying himself as well.”

“You’re lying.” Derek snarled, still fighting against the invisible restraints holding his body captive. “He’s not still in there. He can’t be.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s face in one hand and pressed his lips against Derek’s, forcing his tongue inside Derek’s mouth, and then pulled back to lap at the shell of Derek’s ear. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Derek.”

Derek fell to his hands and knees as he was released. He lifted his head, but Stiles had disappeared again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing beats the power of friendship! In which I've decided me and [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) are now girl versions of Scott and Stiles. In which this is a thank you for being you. And editing.


	10. Chapter 10

Derek leaned against the opened loft door with his arms crossed listening for the sound of Allison’s SUV. He and Isaac had been back in the loft for well over twenty minutes and there was still no sign of Scott and Allison returning with Lydia. Isaac had wanted answers the second they got back to Derek’s, but Derek had wanted to wait for the others. They were in danger, was all Derek had been willing to tell Isaac at the school to coax him into getting himself kicked out of class. There had been no mention of Stiles at all and Derek was going to keep that door closed for as long as possible.

Rolling his shoulders along the wall to glance up at the second floor, Derek could do nothing to shake the unease that washed over him from the fact that he couldn’t sense Stiles anymore and that left them vulnerable to the demon currently controlling everything Stiles did.

From his position on the couch, Isaac followed Derek’s gaze to the top of the stairs and then he looked back at Derek. “What is it?”

Derek shifted his gaze to Isaac. “Nothing.” he said before looking back out the loft door. Everyone that knew Stiles would be at risk. The problem was that Derek didn’t know if telling them would put them in more danger or keep them safe. Like Stiles’ father. He deserved to know. But Derek had a sickening sense that the more people that found out the more trouble they’d have on their hands. And since they were in deep enough over their heads, he figured they could do without adding to it.

He focused harder, trying to hear farther and still couldn’t pick up any sounds resembling the Argent’s SUV. He probably should have gone out looking for them five minutes ago, but that either left the loft empty if Scott and Allison returned and then they’d be wondering what happened to him and Isaac, or it left Isaac alone in the loft with Derek explaining everything before he left and hoping that Stiles didn’t show while Isaac was there alone. Neither option was appealing to Derek so he kept still, listening for anything.

Two minutes later he was rewarded with the sound of tires crunching in the gravel down the road and three unmistakable heartbeats. Scott and Allison’s were calm, leveled, but Lydia’s was erratic. Derek heard Isaac sit up on the couch.

“Am I finally going to find out what’s going on?”

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t.” Derek said warningly. The three made their way up the stairs to the loft and Derek stepped outside to usher them in. “What happened?” He asked as he pulled the door closed behind them.

“Stiles caught up with us.” Scott’s mouth was in a tight, thin line.

“What was I supposed to do, Scott?” Allison snapped before Derek could ask for more details. “He wasn’t going anywhere.”

Scott stepped into Allison’s space. “You weren’t supposed to run him down like a psychopath!”

“A lot of good it did!”

“Enough!” Derek roared. His eyes may have only flashed blue, but it got the silence he needed. “Scott, what happened?”

Scott tore his eyes away from Allison to look at Derek. If Derek’s eyes were still glowing Scott ignored them. “We had just picked up Lydia, and were pulling out to head back when Stiles appeared in front of the car. His eyes were black and he just stood there, staring at us, for, probably five minutes.” Scott shifted on his feet. “And then he said that he wasn’t done, and this was just the beginning.” His voice hardened. “And then Allison tried to run him over.”

“Which didn’t work anyways,” Allison snapped. “Because he _leapt_ over the car and disappeared again.”

They were about to go at it again when Isaac spoke up between them. “What’s going on? And where’s Stiles?”

Derek was about to answer when Lydia’s soft voice carried across the loft, her heart rate suddenly suspiciously steady. “Oh. Didn’t you hear?” She tilted her head. “Stiles is trying to kill us.”

“That’s nothing new for me,” Isaac stated, and Derek couldn’t argue with that.

“That thing is _not_ Stiles.” Scott growled. “My best friend wouldn’t go around trying to kill everyone.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest and wished that he had just explained everything to Isaac while the others were gone, but he hadn’t been expecting the demon to surprise visit Lydia. He should have known better. Isaac was no closer to figuring out what was going on, and Scott and Allison were at each other’s throats about Stiles. Derek figured the best way to solve their tension would be to let the two of them argue it out. So he turned to Isaac and Lydia who had both moved away from the arguing pair.

“You know Stiles has been acting strange since the eclipse.” He waited for their nods of confirmation before continuing. “We’ve been concerned for some time that there was something wrong with Stiles and this morning Allison confirmed that. Stiles is being controlled by a demon.”

“Excuse me?” Lydia raised her brows. “A demon? Like, evil worker of Satan kind of deal?”

That wasn’t the way Derek wanted to think about it. In fact, Derek didn’t want to think about it at all. “We’re still trying to figure out exactly what it means.”

“So,” Isaac turned to look at Derek. “All we know is that Stiles isn’t Stiles, and whatever it is wants to kill us, but we don’t know anything about it.”

“And,” Derek hated this part the most. “Apparently it knows everything about us.”

“Great.” Isaac said slowly as the three of them watched Scott and Allison yell at each other. “Are you going to stop them?”

Derek raised his brows. “Do you want to get in between that?” When Isaac didn’t answer, Derek snorted softly. “Then why would I?”

The pair had stopped bickering about Stiles and had seemingly moved onto every other disagreement they’d ever had. A conversation that they probably should have been having in private since there were a lot of relationship issues being brought up and Isaac looked like he was getting more uncomfortable by the second, but Derek still wasn’t going to step in between them. It would be a lot easier to plan and come up with a strategy to handle their current situation if two of their strongest players weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. So this gave them an outlet to get everything out of the way. It would also give Derek a few minutes to process the past few hours.

He crossed his arms and tuned out the two quarrelling teens. The bestiary had provided them with limited information, but the one thing that Derek kept hoping was that it had been right about the demon not being able to take control of Stiles’ body instantly. He had known that Stiles had been acting strange for quite some time, but Scott had confirmed that after all the other incidents Stiles continued to act like himself. Derek had to believe that at the time of his own return, there was still some part of Stiles that was in control. Thinking of anything else only made Derek’s stomach churn and he’d be no use to anyone if he let himself go down that road.

Besides the issues of sexual consent, they also had to worry about who else was on the demon’s radar and what else it had planned. The demon had said he had access to all Stiles’ thoughts and memories, and as far as Derek was concerned that meant that the demon had too much information. Stiles was practically an encyclopedia when it came to everything and everyone, and that was worrisome. A whole lot of information and, from what they had seen, the demon had a whole lot of power at its disposal. The demon had only shown an interest on the five of them and besides Stiles’ father they were the only ones Stiles had constant interactions with. If demons thrived on chaos then it made sense the demon would focus on the people closest to Stiles.

The thought of contacting the sheriff made Derek nervous. There were enough people to worry about without adding another into the mix. And the sheriff would do everything in his power to help his son, meaning that he would more than likely just get in the way of solving the problem. On top of that, the demon hadn’t mentioned anything about the sheriff, and Derek didn’t want to take the chance of contacting him and putting a target on his back.

“This is ridiculous.” Lydia’s voice cut through Derek’s thoughts. “I’m going home.”

Scott and Allison had finally stopped arguing and both of them looked over at Lydia, but it was Derek who spoke. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?”

“The demon has made it clear who it’s after, and that’s everyone in this room.” Derek looked at each of them before landing his eyes back on Lydia’s stunned face. “We’re safer and stronger together. So until it shows back up and we know what it wants, everyone is staying right here.”

“I am not – “ Lydia started.

It was Allison that cut her off. “Derek’s right.” She looked over at Scott, who gave his nod of agreement, and Derek was glad to see that they had sorted out their shit and were on the same page. “It’s not safe for any of us to be alone right now.”

“So our plan is to sit and wait for a _demon_ to come and find us?” Lydia shook her head. “And here I thought I was the craziest one in the room.” She stalked over to the couch.

Allison walked over to the door. “My laptop’s in the car. We might as well do a little research while we wait.”

Scott moved to follow her, but Derek nudged Isaac toward the door. “Take Isaac with you.” Once they had left, Derek turned back to Scott. “You need to accept that Stiles could already be dead.”

“I can’t.” Scott’s voice was broken.

“If the only way to stop this thing is to kill it, then that’s what we do.”

“I can’t accept that. I won’t.” Scott stepped forward, his hands fisting at his sides. “How can this be so easy for you?”

“You think this is easy?” Derek snarled. “This isn’t easy, Scott, not for anyone. It sure as hell isn’t easy for me when who knows how long I’ve been…” He stopped. _Raping Stiles_. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud because it made him want to throw up again.    

Scott’s body relaxed and when he spoke again his voice was soft, gentle even. “I’m sorry.” They stood staring at each other for a few more minutes until Allison and Isaac’s footsteps started up the stairs. “I can’t give up on him, Derek.”

Derek wanted to argue the point. Wanted to ask Scott how he thought Stiles would feel about a demon walking around using his body as a meatsuit, torturing his friends and family, but Allison and Isaac walked back in and he let it drop.

 

It was well past two in the morning and Derek sat on the staircase leading to the second level. The loft was dark, but the moon shone through the bay windows and illuminated the main floor. Lydia was lying across the couch. Isaac was on the floor leaning his back against the couch and Allison was sprawled across the floor with her head on Isaac’s lap. Scott was curled up on the floor at the bottom of the couch, slumped against the wall. They’d all crashed about an hour ago. Scott had tried to stay up, insisting that Derek should get some sleep, but eventually his eyes had slipped closed too.

Derek glanced down at his phone. He had texted Peter a few hours ago and still hadn’t heard anything back. Not that he was expecting to. Peter had wanted to keep a low profile since the incident with the alpha pack and he’d been doing a mighty fine job of it. Only now Derek was hoping to have his help with the demon problem and Peter was nowhere to be found. Derek tried not to think about how much that stung.

Resting his head against the cool rail he let his eyes slip shut for just a second.

 

A soft moan escaped Derek’s lips at the feel of hands sliding up his thighs and warm lips against his navel. He was still drowsy and his eye lids were heavy, but he blinked them open slowly. The loft was still dark. His shirt was bunched around his chest and Stiles was crouching on the steps below, eased in between Derek’s thighs. Stiles’ black eyes gleamed up at Derek and he smirked.

Derek tensed, about to push away when the demon clamped Stiles’ hands around Derek’s thighs and hissed. “You wouldn’t want to wake up the kids, would you?” Derek’s eyes shot to where the four teens were still sound asleep, oblivious, and he forced himself to stay still. “Good dog.”

Derek’s nostrils flared as he fought the urge to throw Stiles as far away from him as possible. He didn’t want to be this close, couldn’t stop the slow hardening of his cock as Stiles’ scent suddenly overpowered his senses. He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, noticing the faint heartbeat that was unmistakably Stiles. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming and he had to wake up. Stiles didn’t have a heartbeat or a scent anymore. Stiles wasn’t alive.

“Open your eyes, Derek.” Stiles’ breath ghosted across the skin just above his jeans. Derek shook his head. “Open your eyes or I’ll slit their throats one by one and you can listen to them choking on their own blood.”

“Okay.” Derek opened his eyes and met the black ones watching him. “Okay, what do you want?” At this point he’d do anything to keep the demon’s focus on him and away from everyone else. They may not know how to fight back yet, but Derek would do everything in his power to stop the demon from hurting more people.

“I think we want the same thing.” It’s voice was coy and nothing like Stiles’ as it slid Stiles’ hands up farther, grazing over Derek’s cock to reach for the button on his jeans.

“Stop.” Derek whispered, tensing and pushing himself up farther on the stair, trying to slide away.

The demon had Stiles surge forward with Derek. “That’s not what you want.” It dragged Stiles’ teeth along Derek’s hip before crawling up farther, nearly straddling Derek’s lap. “I can make it easier on you.” It blinked and Stiles’ brown eyes plead up at Derek.

“Stop it.” Derek ground out. “You’re not him.”

It blinked again and the black eyes returned. The sneer was out of place on Stiles’ face. “That doesn’t stop you from getting hard as a rock though, does it?” It rutted Stiles’ body against Derek, and he fought back a groan. “It doesn’t stop you from thinking about fucking into his tight ass, or pumping his cock dry, or thrusting your thick, hard dick into his warm, willing mouth.”

Derek squeezed his eyes closed again and fought back a new wave of nausea. He wished he could rupture his eardrums so he wouldn’t have to listen anymore. He didn’t want to think about all the ways that the demon was right. Derek was fucked up in more ways than one, and with the overload of senses that screamed _Stiles_ , Derek’s cock was hard and no amount of self-loathing and hatred was making that go away.

“I can take care of you.” Derek felt Stiles clamber closer, if that was even possible. “No one has to know.” And then his voice whispered in Derek’s ear. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Things couldn’t get much worse at this point, Derek thought. He knew that at some time during the past couple of months while he and Stiles had been fucking that it was no longer Stiles. That much was painfully clear. Maybe it hadn’t been him from the beginning.

“No.” Derek opened his eyes. He needed to see the black eyes. It was a reminder that Stiles was gone.

Stiles laughed softly. “It wasn’t a question, Derek.” He moved back down, pulling open Derek’s jeans. “You’ll find I’m much easier to get along with if I’m kept happy.”

Derek wanted to shove Stiles away. Push, kick, anything to get space between them, but he bit back a moan as Stiles pulled out his cock and started stroking it in the way that Stiles had perfected. Derek planted his feet and couldn’t stop the stutter in his hips as he thrust up into the familiar grip of Stiles’ hands.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Stiles’ voice mocked. “Is it how easily you can bend him to your will? Or the way he moans your name like a cheap whore?”

Hot breath hovered across the tip of Derek’s cock. Everything about the situation was wrong. They practically had an audience. Stiles never talked dirty. Stiles was probably incapable of talking dirty without laughing about it. And most of all, this wasn’t Stiles.

“Shut up.” Derek bit out. He gripped the rails until his knuckles were white to keep his hands from delving into Stiles’ hair.

“Anything you want.” Derek could hear the smirk in Stiles’ voice and a second later Derek’s cock was wrapped in the moist heat of Stiles’ mouth.

Derek’s back tensed as he fought the urge to buck up into Stiles’ mouth. He wouldn’t participate. Somehow it made him feel like it wasn’t his fault. He might not be able to stop his dick from responding, but he damn well wasn’t going to let the demon think he was into this. But the fact that two minutes later Derek was coming down Stiles’ throat was evidence against Derek and there was no lying to himself about that.

A creak alerted Derek to movement and his eyes darted to the couch as his guilty heart jumped into his throat. He stayed frozen like that, with the demon still between his legs, mouth still shoved full of Derek’s soft cock, until he was sure everyone was still asleep and then he shoved Stiles’ head away.

It was a wasted effort. The demon had Stiles nimbly climbing back up Derek’s body and it wrapped Stiles’ arms around Derek’s neck. “Wasn’t that fun?”

Stiles nuzzled at Derek’s cheek and pressed their lips together. Derek turned his face away, tasting himself on Stiles’ lips caused his stomach to drop and his heart hammered erratically against his chest. He doubted that he could control it even if he tried.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s face and forced their lips together again. “Our little secret.” Stiles whispered again before he stood up and started down the stairs. The demon’s new focus was clear.

“Wait.” Derek whispered in a panic as he pulled up his jeans and scurried to get up. Stiles merely looked over his shoulder with a grin. Derek reached for Stiles’ wrist as he yelled. “Stiles stop!”

Before Derek’s hand could grab a hold of Stiles’ though, Stiles lifted his hand up and Derek was thrown backwards. His back connected with the wall and half a second later his head followed as his neck was snapped back from the force of the blow. Derek heard the wood crack under his weight. He dropped to the floor and watched as the four teens slowly woke from Derek’s outburst. Scott was the first to rush to his feet. With a flick of Stiles’ wrist Scott was thrown across the room. He slid across the floor, coming to a stop in front of the stairs by the loft door. Lydia scrambled off the side of the couch and pressed her back against the wall. Allison and Isaac were slower to get up, each of them keeping wary eyes on Stiles as he stalked closer.

“Stiles.” Derek tried again. He stood and was about to step forward when he was shoved back up against the wall again and held there.

“I think you’ve had quite enough attention, Derek.” The demon stopped Stiles three feet away from Allison and Isaac with only the coffee table between them. “Let me play with kids my own age.”

“Just tell us what you want.” Allison sidestepped in front of Isaac, shielding him with her body as she reached into her pocket.

“World peace would be a great start.”

A second after the words were out of Stiles’ mouth, Allison pulled out a vial from her pocket and threw the contents at Stiles’ face.

“Holy water?” Stiles laughed and wiped his face. “Are we living in the Dark Ages, sweetie?” Raising a hand the demon sent Allison flying without touching her. She landed on her side and Lydia ran over to crouch beside her. Derek’s jaw clenched as he futilely tried to move again.

“Allison!” Scott ran forward but stopped suddenly. The confused look on his face told Derek that Scott was being held back by the demon.

“Ah ah ah. I’m not quite finished.” Stiles lifted his hand as if to grab something and Isaac gasped. He brought his hands to his throat trying to pull at the invisible force choking him. His eyes were wild, panicked.

“Stop!” Derek yelled.

“Stiles,” Scott pleaded.

They were both helpless to do anything else but watch. Derek strained against the force holding him against the wall. All he got for his effort was more pressure against his chest that constricted his breathing.

“Tell me, Derek.” The demon turned Stiles’ head to watch Derek with black eyes. “Can a werewolf heal itself if his heart stops?”

Derek didn’t get a chance to answer because Scott was pleading again.

“Just tell us what you want.” Scott never took his eyes off Stiles. “Tell me what you want so I can give it to you, Stiles.”

“Me? I just want to talk.” The demon finally took its eyes off Derek to look at Scott. “Do I have your attention now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's still with me on this <3
> 
> And as always a big thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for the constant support and encouragment.


	11. Chapter 11

Scott’s chest tightened as the panic settled low in his stomach. Isaac’s face had paled and Scott could just barely hear the wheezing as Isaac fought to catch air. Stiles hadn’t lessened his grip.

“Yes.” Scott tried to keep his voice level even as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. “Yes! You have my attention. Just tell me what you want.” He slammed his body against the force holding him back. “I can do what you want, anything, just let Isaac go, just let him go. _Please_!”

Stiles dropped his hand and Isaac’s gasp echoed through the loft as he fell to his hands and knees, coughing. Allison rushed over to him and helped him sit up.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Stiles turned around. “I’d really hate to have to kill one of you. That’s not part of my plan.”

Colour gradually returned to Isaac’s face and his heartbeat was returning to a steady, albeit pounding rate. They were all on edge. Lydia, Allison, and even Derek’s heartbeats were frantic. Scott worked to control his own. They needed to keep their heads and the demon had kept them off balance since it had shown up. They couldn’t continue to allow it that control over them.

“And what is your plan?” Derek lifted his eyes from where he’d been staring a hole into the floor to look at Stiles.

Scott looked over at Derek; pinned against the wall and still managing to look intimidating. Scott might have believed his calm appearance if he hadn’t been able to hear Derek’s heart. Now that things had slowed down and he was able to focus, Scott could smell a lingering scent in the loft that hadn’t been there before they’d fallen asleep. He knew that scent because Stiles had been covered in it for nearly two months since Derek had come back to Beacon Hills. Scott took in Derek’s dishevelled appearance. His shirt was bunched up and the top button of his jeans were undone.

Barely holding back a snarl, Scott brought his attention back to the demon. There was no use in bringing up the fact that Derek had gotten off with a demon _who was currently inhabiting his best friend_. At least not in front of said demon. The thing would probably only get itself off on the confrontation. As it was, it had Stiles rubbing his hands together with a look of glee on his face.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Stiles walked closer to Isaac and Allison. They both tensed and leaned away, pushing back into the couch. “This is the first time I’ve ever come across a werewolf. Imagine my luck, having three at my disposal.”

Scott frowned. “You have tons of power. What do you want with us?”

“That’s true, I do.”

As if to prove that point, Stiles raised his both his hands and flicked his wrists. Allison slid across the floor stopping near Lydia and Isaac was tossed across the loft. He nailed the railing on the stairs, ribs connecting with a crack and he fell to the floor near Derek’s feet with a sharp, pained cry.

“But here’s the thing,” The demon walked Stiles around to drop his body down onto the couch and lifted his feet to place them on the coffee table. “If I were to…damage, this little package, it wouldn’t heal. I know, I know, it’s the life of a human. And sadly, I can’t possess another supernatural being. Which means I don’t have a choice but to live in these slowly decaying corpses.” He sneered. “But you, well, let’s just say that having a werewolf or two around would make my life a whole lot more fun.”

Isaac had pushed himself up and sat leaning against the wall, holding his side. Scott was pretty certain a few of his ribs had broken when they connected with the iron rail, and the beads of sweat coating his forehead told Scott that at least they were healing. Derek looked down at Isaac and then at Scott. If the guilty look in his eyes was any indication, Derek was about to do something incredibly stupid.

“Fine,” Derek forced out through gritted teeth. “Then take me and let everyone else go.”

“I’ve already _taken_ you, Derek.” Scott didn’t miss the sheer pleasure it gave the demon to say that out loud. As if it could, and would, get off tormenting Derek with that over and over again. “Besides, I don’t think I’ll stop at just one. I think I’d like my own pack.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Allison spoke up. She’d maneuvered herself to stand in front of Lydia. Scott could smell the faint scent of blood coming from their direction and knew Allison had been hurt when Stiles threw her across the room. But there she stood, determined to keep her best friend safe. Scott swallowed back the rush of guilt that he hadn’t been able to do that for Stiles.

The demon’s eyes turned to meet Allison’s steady gaze. “Don’t worry, Allison, I don’t want you to turn. I’m perfectly happy keeping you human.”

Scott tensed. “What do you mean ‘keeping her human’?”

“Well, I’d hardly call three a pack.” Stiles grinned. “I want more.”

“No.” Scott whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

He hadn’t been given a choice when Peter had bit him. He’d been forced into turning, and even though he’d gotten past that and had been able to accept what he was, Scott couldn’t do the same to anyone else. And since Derek wasn’t an alpha anymore and the demon hadn’t mentioned the twins it left Scott as the only one who’d be able to turn someone.

“Hear me out, Scotty.”

“No!” Scott snapped, fighting against the force holding him in place.

Stiles was up and standing in front of Isaac in an instant. He grabbed a hold of Isaac’s throat and dragged him into the middle of the loft, just out of Scott’s reach, and threw Isaac onto the floor. With one foot on Isaac’s chest, the demon reached a hand out behind him and the iron railing began to shake. One of the rungs broke off and flew into Stiles’ hand. With one swing the iron rod connected with Isaac’s cheek and blood shot from his mouth.

“Stop!” Scott fell to his knees, desperately scrapping at the barrier holding him back. “God, stop! Just stop!” He vaguely heard Allison and Derek yelling, but all his attention was focused on the way Isaac crumpled in front of him. Everything inside Scott was screaming for him to protect his pack. For him to do something. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get through the force that held him captive. The pain in his chest only intensified the longer he watched.

Stiles lifted the rod again and this time thrust it straight down. The sharp tip pierced through Isaac’s hand and he bit back a howl deep in his throat, arching his back off the floor as much as Stiles’ foot would allow.

“Stiles, stop! Please!” Scott looked up at the dead, black eyes.

The demon didn’t move, but watched Scott closely as he said slowly. “I can hurt a lot of people, Scott.” He twisted the rod and Isaac whined. “Or you can do this for me.”

He wanted to say that he couldn’t. It went against everything he knew. He wanted to say no, that there was no way he could turn someone. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t in his nature. But he couldn’t stand the sight of Isaac writhing in pain. He felt like his chest was being ripped open.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”

“Excellent.” Stiles yanked the rod out and removed his foot from Isaac’s chest to push him away. “Shall we do it here, or would you prefer to choose the location?”

Scott stood and focused on slowing his breathing again. “What?” Scott could hear Derek whispering at him not to do anything, that Isaac would heal and they would figure everything out. But Isaac’s heavy breathing was still hammering in Scott’s ears and he couldn’t stand the idea of having to watch Isaac get hurt again. Not when they were so useless in fighting back. They had no defense against the demon’s attack and their only option was to cooperate. At least right now. They could figure something out once the demon was gone. It couldn’t watch all of them at once.

“Should I go pick up Danny right quick, or do you want to come with me to his house and do it there?”

“Danny?” Scott faltered. “Why Danny?”

And when had the demon even decided on a person to turn? Scott didn’t know how long it had been planning this, but they needed more time. More time to figure out a plan. Because he was under no circumstances turning Danny into a werewolf.

“Because Danny is perfect.” Stiles swung the iron rod around. “He’s smart, athletic, and can follow orders.” He grinned. “At least that’s what Ethan tells me.”

Scott looked up. Allison and Lydia had managed to back away so that they were standing farther away near the bay windows. Derek had his eyes trained on Stiles and looked as though he was still trying to fight against the force holding him back even though he knew it was useless. And Isaac hadn’t moved from his place on the floor, but Scott heard him holding back groans as the hole in his hand slowly stitched itself back together. They were broken and helpless and as much as Scott knew they needed more time, he couldn’t come up with an excuse that they couldn’t go through with the demon’s plan.

“You can’t.” Derek panted. His shoulders sagged from the effort of trying to press against an immoveable force.

Stiles turned, his black eyes raking over Derek’s form as he sauntered closer. “I can’t what?”

“You can’t turn Danny.” Derek huffed out a laugh.

“And why is that?” Stiles narrowed his eyes. He came to a stop in front of Derek and leaned on the iron rod.

“Because,” Derek tilted his head. “The bite only takes on a full moon. And that’s not for another two weeks.”

The double pump in Derek’s heart was out of place, but Scott didn’t need to hear that to know it was a lie. It hadn’t been a full moon when Peter had bit him. But Derek had at least been able to give the demon a reason why they couldn’t turn Danny immediately.

“Is that right?” The black eyes turned to refocus on Scott.

The demon straightened and walked over to Scott. With a nod of Stiles’ head, Scott was forced down onto his knees. He closed his eyes and tensed for the blow he knew was coming. The sound of the iron rod clattering against the floor almost had Scott believing the demon had changed its mind, but a second later he heard the whoosh of air before Stiles’ fist connected with his jaw. The hit was far more powerful than any of the ones Stiles had ever landed on Scott in the past. Heat flooded the spot where the punch connected.

It didn’t stop at just one though. Scott opened his eyes as Stiles brought his arm back and nailed him again, this time connecting with Scott’s nose. He heard the cartilage burst even before the sharp pain shot through his head. He flinched at the familiar feeling of blood running out of his nose, but kept his eyes locked with the demon’s black ones. Stiles was in there somewhere. Scott knew that. He couldn’t believe anything else.

Over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, Scott could vaguely hear the sound of Derek shouting and Allison yelling for Scott to fight back. Scott didn’t know if there was actually a force still holding him down. What he did know was that the demon got off on violence. Scott could smell the excitement coming off Stiles’ body in waves every time his fist connected with Scott’s face. And if Scott didn’t take the beating, someone else would. So he didn’t fight back. He stayed on his knees with one of Stiles’ hands fisted in the front of his shirt while the other wailed on Scott’s face. He wished his body would go numb, but because it kept trying to heal the wounds every hit brought on a fresh, bruising crunch. He could taste the blood pooling in his mouth, the metallic flavour bitter on his tongue.

“Now,” The demon shoved Scott back and he slumped over, barely catching himself with his hands before his already busted up face hit the floor. “Tell me again. And Derek,” Stiles turned, his knuckles covered in Scott’s blood. “Don’t lie to me.”

The room had fallen into silence. Or it would have if Scott hadn’t been a werewolf and couldn’t hear every sound below a whisper. Like Lydia’s _oh god_ mantra. Allison’s frantic heartbeat. Isaac’s desperate breathing from where he still laid on the floor. They were terrified. Scott’s chest constricted. For the first time since he’d been turned into a werewolf he felt weak. Powerless.

“The bite won’t work unless it’s a full moon.” Derek enunciated each word slowly, keeping an unblinking gaze focused on Stiles.

“Then I guess we wait.” Stiles bent down to pick up the discarded iron rod and when he straightened, Derek slid down the wall and caught himself before he fell to his knees. He hesitated for a second before walking slowly around Stiles to Scott.

“And how does that plan work exactly?” Allison stepped forward, her hands fisted at her side. “You can’t keep us here for two weeks.”

Scott let Derek pull him up by the arm. With a quick inspection, Derek seemed satisfied that Scott was capable of healing himself. Scott bit back the accusation that Derek should have checked on Isaac first, who had gotten a hole pierced through his hand. But a quick glance at Isaac’s wound showed that the gaping wound was already gone and all that remained was a light pink ripple, slowly fading.

“Keep you here?” Stiles chuckled. “I’m not holding you hostage, Allison. You’re free to come and go as you please.”

With a snap of his fingers the loft doors screeched open. Isaac was the first to eye the door with a look of disbelief. Scott took his eyes away from the demon to look over his shoulder. There was no way for them to be sure that there wasn’t another one of the demon’s fucking invisible walls holding them in and this wasn’t some trick just to torment them.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Scott looked back around and winced as a sharp pain jolted through his nose when the bone snapped back into place.

“As much delight as it would give me to keep playing together, the sheriff might get suspicious if the four of you go missing for two weeks.”

Derek’s grip tightened on Scott’s arm at the mention of Stiles’ dad. It was the first time that the demon had brought up the sheriff, and Scott was instantly on alert as to how they were going to explain Stiles missing.

“So, let me tell you how this is going to work.” The demon leaned on the rod again, a small smile pasted on Stiles’ face. “You’re all going to go home. For the next two weeks, life will carry on as it has for the past few months. You will not speak to anybody about this. And if I even get the smallest hint that someone has gone to a father,” He looked pointedly at Allison. “Or an uncle.” He moved his gaze to Derek and then to Scott. “Or a cop – I will tear them apart with Stiles’ bare hands. Are we clear?”

Allison was the first to answer. “Yes.” She took a hold of Lydia’s wrist and started walking them around Stiles, keeping as far as possible from the demon as the small space would allow.

The demon remained where he was. The only telling sign that he was carefully listening to the sound of Allison and Lydia’s footsteps was the slight tilt of Stiles’ head and the smirk in the corner of Stiles’ mouth. It knew that they were terrified and it loved every second of that fear. Scott stood motionless, holding back the urge to rush forward and get them out of the loft before the demon changed its mind. Allison stopped when they reached the top of the stairs by the door.

“Scott?” Her voice was strong, but Scott heard the soft waiver in her tone. She didn’t want to leave them and Scott couldn’t blame her. But he, Isaac and Derek weren’t her responsibility.

“Go.” Scott replied in a soft but firm voice.

For once Allison didn’t argue and Scott listened to their footsteps as they moved down the stairs. Scott felt a weight lift off his chest. Allison and Lydia were gone, and the demon had already stated other plans for the werewolves, so the remaining three of them were safe. At least from death.

“Isaac.” Scott stepped forward, half expecting the barrier to pop back up and separate him from Isaac again. It didn’t and Scott bent down to help Isaac stand. “Come on.”

The cool stare on Stiles’ face sent an eerie chill down Scott’s spine, and the alpha in him was screaming to get Isaac out of the loft as soon as possible. But there was another part of him that refused to leave Derek behind to deal with the demon. Scott couldn’t be sure if it was a protective instinct towards Derek as pack, or the familiar protective streak towards Stiles as his brother. Either way, he couldn’t leave. He urged Isaac towards the door.

“Wait outside, Isaac.”

Isaac was just about out the door when the demon finally turned Stiles to face them with a grin that caused Scott’s stomach to turn.

“Run, run as fast as you can, Isaac.” He sang with a threatening step forward. “You’ll be the first one I come after if someone fucks up.”

Scott moved back to stand next to Derek. He knew that if the demon had wanted to do anything he could. A simple swipe of his hands could send both Scott and Derek flying to leave Isaac open to more torture. But Stiles didn’t move and Scott figured the demon must have been content with the verbal threat. Isaac had paused when Stiles spoke, but after a moment he left the loft with his heart still pounding in Scott’s ears.

“Well isn’t this sweet.” Stiles tossed the iron rod onto the floor and stood up straight. Apparently he was done with the intimidation tactics. “The two alphas – oh, I’m sorry, Derek, one alpha and one washed up alpha – standing against the big, bad demon.”

“Go home, Scott.” Derek didn’t take his eyes off Stiles.

“I’m not leaving you.” Scott answered before Derek finished his sentence.

Scott saw Derek’s eyes close for a brief second and smelled the shame and guilt radiating from Derek’s body. He knew there was no point in arguing. Scott didn’t understand the defeat in Derek’s motions.

“What about Stiles and his father?” Derek asked slowly once he’d reopened his eyes.

The demon shrugged. “What about them?”

“If you want things to appear normal, then Stiles is going to have to go home and go to school.” Derek folded his arms across his chest. “You’re going to have to play your own part for the next two weeks.”

Another grin ghosted across Stiles’ face. “I’ve been in here for months, Derek, another two weeks playing the behaviourally challenged, overly excited, Adderall addicted teen won’t be a problem.”

The urge to jump to defend Stiles was on the tip of Scott’s tongue. No one insulted his best friend. Scott was the only one that was allowed to do that. And even if it killed him, Scott swore to himself that he would get the demon out of Stiles so he could tear it apart.

“And the sheriff?”

“Is that a hint of concern in your voice?” The demon cocked Stiles’ head. “I had no idea that your boyfriend’s dad was so important to you. Are you worried about what I could do to him?” He took slow, deliberate steps toward Derek. “What would you give me to keep him safe?”

Scott’s entire body froze. All his senses dulled as he turned an anxious gaze at Derek, who refused to look back at him. And then it clicked as to why Derek hadn’t wanted Scott to stay. Stiles’ dad was the only one who didn’t have someone looking out for him. Someone to protect him from this new threat that they didn’t have a clue how to fight. And Scott had made it clear weeks ago how important it had been for the three of them – Allison, Stiles and himself – that their parents were kept safe. And Derek, ever the sacrificing bastard that pretended to hate everything and everyone, was going to pimp himself out to demon to protect Stiles’ dad. Because Stiles couldn’t protect him anymore and Derek blamed himself for that.

“Derek,” Scott reached for Derek’s arm. “Don’t – “

Derek yanked away and shoved Scott with a palm on his chest. Scott stumbled back and listened as Derek’s heart kicked into overdrive as he walked forward to meet the demon. Scott felt like someone punched him in the stomach as he watched Derek get down onto his knees in front of Stiles.

“Please,” Derek’s voice was hoarse. Scott knew the plea was forced. Derek didn’t beg for anything. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt him.” His voice hardened. “You leave him alone, and I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

The unmistakable scent of Stiles’ arousal filled the room at Derek’s proposal. Scott looked away, unable to watch Derek submit himself to the will of the demon. He was practically selling his soul, and somewhere in the back of his mind Scott realized that things were far worse than they thought. Because if Derek was already giving up, they had already lost one of their strongest pack members.

“That sounds like a pretty good deal, wouldn’t you say so, Scotty?”

When Scott turned back to the pair, Stiles’ brown eyes stared back at him. They were Stiles’ normal eyes. Trusting and open. Only to Scott they were accusatory. As though Stiles was inside staring Scott down and screaming at him. Demanding to know why Scott hadn’t done more to help him, or why Scott was still letting it happen.

“Alright, Derek.” Stiles clapped his hands together. “The sheriff is off limits. But I consider this special treatment for a special friend.” He ran a bloodied hand over Derek’s head, and Derek tensed. “I suppose I should take this boy home before daddy gets worried.”

When Stiles disappeared, Derek remained kneeling on the floor, his heart still racing. Scott didn’t know what to say. The surge of anger that he had felt when he’d smelled Derek’s come on Stiles’ breath had evaporated. They were dealing with too much already for Scott to hold onto resentment against Derek. Derek wasn’t the enemy this time. But he was just as lost as the rest of them, Scott realized.

Isaac was still waiting outside and since Derek made no attempt to speak up again, Scott turned and left, pulling the loft door closed as he went. They needed time to regroup and Derek had been able to get that for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely lady [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for always knowing when to call me a dumbass (not in so many words, of course).


	12. Chapter 12

Derek tensed as he felt the air in the loft shift. It was subtle, beyond subtle, and if he hadn’t spent the past nine days waiting with all his senses on high alert he would have never picked up on it. But when the demon appeared – and Derek refused to refer to it as transporting – the empty air seemed to move, pushing apart to make room for a body that invaded a space it wasn’t supposed to be in. And Derek’s skin tingled against the movement. He didn’t even need to concentrate anymore to pick it up. He just knew.

“Did you miss me?”

It was just past five-thirty and the sun was starting to fade. Derek stood in front of the bay windows looking out and never feeling more caged in his life. Within a few seconds, the demon overwhelmed Derek’s senses with everything Stiles. His heartbeat. His scent. It had taken the demon no time at all to realize that Derek was completely helpless to the animal instincts inside him. As much as he hated himself for it, he couldn’t stop the response his body had to Stiles. It was in those moments when Derek loathed what he was.

The sound of clothes hitting the floor behind him had Derek tensing. “Stiles excelled at lacrosse practice today.”

Derek inhaled the smell of grass and sweat, the faint hint of blood that was probably a skinned knee or elbow. It was familiar. One of the smells that Derek would always associate with Stiles.

“Not too good, of course.” The demon continued. Stiles’ fingers trailed down Derek’s spine. “Wouldn’t want people to get suspicious of skills that he never had before.”

“I could do without the commentary.” Derek replied coolly, his traitorous cock twitching at the touch.

“Oh, Derek,” The demon laughed. “I know you’re not one for words, but can’t you spare a few for your favourite boy?” Stiles hands slid around Derek’s waist and under the front of his shirt to rub teasingly over his stomach. “Surely even you can talk to the kid you’re fucking senseless.”

The twist of guilt in Derek’s stomach wasn’t even enough to stop his cock from getting harder by the second. Nine days of having to listen to everything that the demon spewed about him and Stiles. Nine days of guilt and torture. Derek had learned firsthand exactly how well a demon was able to fuck with someone’s mind. It hadn’t even started out easy and gotten progressively worse. No, demons, Derek found out, never did anything half assed.

_“What would you like?” The demon whispered, straddling Derek’s legs on the bed. “I can look like him, act like him, I know everything about him.”_

_Derek didn’t want it to act like Stiles, he wanted it to be Stiles. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare and realize that’s exactly what it had been. He didn’t even care if he never had Stiles in the first place. If the kid still hated his guts that would be okay. Or called Derek untrustworthy, lower than low. Derek didn’t care if he went the rest of his life without ever knowing Stiles as long as this wasn’t real. But it was and no amount of wishing otherwise was going to change that. The most that Derek could do was keep Stiles’ father safe. He owed the kid that much._

_When Derek didn’t answer, the demon blinked and Stiles’ brown eyes were swallowed up by black. “Fine, we’ll do it my way.”_

_Derek gritted his teeth as Stiles’ scent filled the air. It was better this way. This way he could stare at the demon and know that it wasn’t Stiles. And he the best thing that he could hope for was that Stiles was long gone._

“No?” The demon asked. He’d maneuvered Stiles’ naked body in front of Derek and was looking up at Derek through Stiles’ lashes. Hazel eyes bore into Derek’s. “Come on, Derek, talk dirty to me.”

By now Derek knew the difference between a request and an order. It took him a few times to get it right, and the punishment for refusing an order was a new round of beating on Scott’s face. And when Scott wasn’t around…

_“No.” Derek balled his hands at his side, standing naked and exposed while the demon had Stiles sprawled out across Derek’s bed._

_“It wasn’t a question, Derek.” Stiles slid a hand down his body to wrap it around his cock and stroke it. Derek looked away as the scent of Stiles’ precome filled the room and tried to ignore his own cock’s reaction._

_“I didn’t agree to this.”_

_“You agreed to do_ anything _for the safety of dear old dad.” Stiles dropped his head back and moaned as he kept stroking himself. “So you’re either going to mount this fine boy and fuck his tight ass senseless, or I’m going massacre everyone at the police station – including your precious sheriff.”_

_It had been two days since Derek had knelt down and offered himself to the demon, but he hadn’t been expecting this. He squeezed his eyes closed. He should have known better. Crawling onto the bed without another word, Derek reached for the lube beside Stiles’ writhing body._

_“That’s a good boy.” The demon smirked and ran Stiles’ hand along Derek’s side._

_Derek grabbed Stiles’ knee and flipped the kid’s body over with more force than he needed to. All he got for his effort was a small, muffled laugh._

“I want to hear you say it.” The demon had wrapped Stiles’ arms around Derek’s neck and Stiles’ hands were sifting through the hair on the back of Derek’s head. Stiles’ hard cock pressed against Derek’s hip.

“Get down on your knees,” Derek forced the words out. Nine days seemed like an eternity and somewhere along the way the demon got exactly what it wanted – Derek willing to do anything. He grabbed the back of Stiles’ neck with one hand and forced the kid onto his knees, never breaking eye contact with those brown eyes and wanting so bad to say he was sorry. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth so that you feel it for days.”

Stiles raised his brows, his hands effortlessly moving to open Derek’s jeans. “Clothes on and everything? My my, aren’t you getting desperate for it.”

Right, clothes. It was the only barrier Derek had left against the demon and he hadn’t noticed his reluctance to take them off. He reached down to grip the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. No point in delaying the inevitable though. If the demon was bringing it up, he’d only tell Derek to strip later. At least this way it felt almost like his own free will.

“Better.” Stiles purred. His tongue flicked out across his bottom lip as he pushed Derek’s jeans down over his ass. “Now tell me what you’re going do to him.”

All Derek wanted to do at that moment was shove his dick so far into Stiles’ mouth that the demon couldn’t talk anymore. He ran his hand over the top of Stiles’ head, petting him. A motion Derek wouldn’t have done on his own, but he knew how much the demon enjoyed it, and if the demon was happy, everyone was safe.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth until you can’t think straight, Stiles. Until you can’t breathe.” Derek gripped Stiles’ hair and pulled his head back. The motion left Stiles’ mouth wide open and Derek reached his free hand down to grip his cock and press the head into Stiles’ heat. “And when I’m done, you’re going to fuck me on the table.”

They’d done it before. And Derek knew without a doubt that was the demon’s favourite sex game. Derek was by no means a virgin – a fact the demon was sad to find out about – he’d been fucked before, but that was Derek’s complete loss of control. And the demon loved it.

Easing Stiles’ head forward, Derek slid his cock slowly into Stiles’ mouth until he felt the tip dragging along the back of Stiles’ throat. Then he set up a steady, hard pace of thrusting into Stiles’ warm mouth. He lifted his gaze to look out the window. The sun had set and the waxing moon was a reminder of the deadline they had. The first quarter had been two days ago. They were nearly out of time.

Derek looked back down when Stiles choked, but Derek kept his grip firm, not letting up. That would only make the demon angry. Derek looked away again and an all too familiar mantra filled his head. It’s not Stiles, Stiles is gone. It’s not Stiles, Stiles is gone.  

_Black eyes flickered to brown. “Derek?” It breathed._

_Derek swallowed and turned his head away. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless with his jeans undone. It had been five days and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. Every time Stiles appeared in the loft Derek’s chest tightened and his throat closed up. He wanted Stiles to be around so he could ask what a panic attack felt like, because Derek had never had one in his life. Never froze up. Couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t understand how his heart could be pounding so hard in his chest, but he couldn’t breathe._

_“Derek!” Stiles’ hands gripped at the sides of Derek’s neck. “What’s going on? Derek, what’s happening?”_

_It sounded like Stiles. His voice was high in that way that Stiles got when he was freaked out. When he was alive. But Derek knew better now. Stiles wasn’t there anymore. There was just the demon and the fucked up games it liked to play._

_“You’re not him.” Derek refused to look back, even as Stiles urged him to turn his head._

_“Derek, please,” Stiles whispered. “Please look at me.”_

_Knowing he’d be lost to those warm, brown eyes, Derek slowly returned his gaze to Stiles. It was a dumb move. A thousand different emotions flooded through the hazel eyes in a way only Stiles was capable of._

_“I don’t know what’s going on,” Stiles breathed and leaned closer, shuffling on his knees farther between Derek’s spread legs. “But I want this. I want you.”_

_But that didn’t make any sense, because Stiles would be flipping his shit if he woke up in Derek’s bedroom with Derek half naked. That’s just what Stiles did. He was a spaz. And no matter how much the demon tried to fake that, it didn’t_ know _Stiles like Derek did._

Derek’s hips stuttered as his muscles tightened. His hands gripped Stiles’ scalp tight as he pumped his way through his orgasm, unsuccessfully biting back a deep moan. Stiles’ throat worked around Derek’s cock, still shoved in his mouth. Derek loosened his grip and tugged Stiles’ head back, his cock slipping wetly from between Stiles’ lips.

“Careful, Derek,” Stiles’ hazel eyes disappeared behind a smoke of black once more. “I’m starting to think you’re enjoying yourself.”

Derek wanted to snap back that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. That it was the last thing he wanted to be doing now that he knew the truth. Stiles had been torn from his own body and something else had forced its way in. Derek hated that he had to continue a physical relationship that had been a charade from the start. At least he was pretty sure it had never been Stiles. Not that it mattered anymore. Stiles was gone. Derek wanted to say all that, but he knew the response would only rain hell down on them.

So he reined in the anger and guilt, and put on the caged pet act that he’d perfected over the past week.

“I want you to fuck me,” Derek reached a hand down to slide his thumb across Stiles’ bottom lip, wiping the remnants of come and spit away. But for all his refusal not to let himself slip up again he added, “Until I forget who you are.”

All the emotion drained from Stiles’ face until he barely even looked like the same person. The black eyes stared soullessly back at Derek, and even though he couldn’t see it he knew that he’d just fucked up again. The demon stood up and placed one of Stiles’ hands gently on Derek’s chest to push him back against the table. It was the soft movements that had Derek swallowing. An apology wouldn’t do anything but get him into more trouble at this point, so he kept his mouth shut and eyed Stiles warily.

Reaching a hand out to grip the spools on one of the wooden chairs scattered around the table, the demon jerked Stiles’ hand back and snapped one of the spools out. Derek didn’t have time to do anything but tense before Stiles speared the wooden stake into Derek’s side. He squeezed his eyes closed and growled at the scalding pain jolting through him. The wood slid under his ribcage, and barely missed his lung.

When Derek opened his eyes again his vision was red and he could feel his fangs biting into his bottom lip. The demon watched him closely, and jerked the stake up farther drawing an unstoppable hiss from Derek. His insides were moving, crawling around the invading wood and trying to press it out of the way so his body could heal.

“Not yet, Derek.” Stiles sneered. “Tell me, have you ever thought about breaking the skin on his pale, frail body?”

He had. And he couldn’t even blame it entirely on the animal side of him. Derek had wanted to mark up Stiles’ skin since the moment he laid eyes on the kid. Stiles’ light skin held bruises for weeks, and how Derek knew that was because he’d count the days until they disappeared after Stiles had gotten himself into some kind of trouble – like trying to take on a newly turned Isaac at the sheriff’s station. But Derek had been able to rein in that desire, and he wasn’t about to admit that to some demon.

“You can’t tell me no, can you?” Another flick of Stiles’ wrist and the wood cut the healing cells inside causing a new wave of pain surging through Derek’s body. He groaned through clenched teeth even as he felt his body fully shift.

Instead of answering, Derek focused on trying to get his body to relax and shift back, to get some kind of control. But every time his vision was almost normal the demon would twist the stake a little more and bring the wolf back out.

“You’re not winning this battle,” The demon ran Stiles’ free hand down Derek’s sweat covered back. “Choose the spot you want, or I’ll make the choice for you.”

Another twist and Derek dropped to his knees, barely registering the way the hardwood scraped his skin. Placing a hand on either side of Stiles’ hips, Derek pulled the kid’s body closer. The overpowering scent of Stiles’ arousal was intoxicating and it made his mouth water as he leaned closer. He wouldn’t look up. There was no point in torturing himself with the look of dominance on Stiles’ face. Dragging his tongue along his canines, Derek lifted his mouth until it was hovering over Stiles’ stomach, just below his ribcage. He liked that spot. Had imagined himself biting there more times than once. Imagined the way Stiles would arch his entire body off the bed, writhing closer to Derek while he pressed his fingers into Stiles’ ass, spreading him open.

Without another thought, Derek sunk his teeth in and tasted the blood pooling from the punctured skin seeping into his mouth. The smell set him off though, and he jerked Stiles closer, dug his teeth in a little deeper until it wasn’t just his canines biting through the skin but his incisors.

A hand fisted in his hair and yanked him away. Derek felt the skin under his teeth tear and he opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he’d closed to see the bloody gashes left behind.

“Good boy.” Stiles praised and pulled the stake out.

Derek didn’t even flinch. Didn’t make a sound. The bloody mess that was Stiles’ torn skin had Derek’s stomach churning. He stared at the human body that was losing blood by the second even as his own healed. The damage to Stiles’ body was irreversible. He needed stitches. Derek reached out to place a hand over the wound, hold it together, to stop the bleeding. He needed to do _something_.

But the demon grabbed Derek’s wrist with a hand that was covered in Derek’s own blood. With what seemed like an effortless move, Stiles pulled Derek up from his kneeling position and forced him to lay with his chest on the table, one arm twisted around with Stiles’ tight hold keeping him down.

“No denying it now, Derek,” Stiles’ breath ghosted across Derek’s lower back. “Now everyone will know who this body belongs to.”

With the table pressed against his cheek bone, Derek listened to Stiles’ breathing and tried to ignore the prickle of pleasure that shot up his spine when Stiles’ tongue touched the heated skin of his lower back. The demon moved lower, leaving a cool, wet trail to the top of Derek’s crack. The hand holding Derek still lifted off his arm, but there was still pressure layered over his entire body preventing him from moving.

Stiles parted Derek’s cheeks and dipped his tongue lower. Derek strained at the force holding him still, the urge to grind back consumed him. But before Stiles reached Derek’s hole, he pulled away. The mix of frustration and guilt battled inside chest as his heart thudded out a fast beat against the table under him.

Wet fingers traced along Derek’s hole then disappeared again. A hitch in Stiles’ breathing and a wave of fresh blood flooded Derek’s senses. He tried to look over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Improvising.” Stiles panted. Drops of a warm and wet liquid hit Derek’s skin and trickled down his crack.

There was no smell of their usual lube in the air and Derek squeezed his eyes closed as he realized that the demon was digging Stiles’ fingers into the open bite wound to drip blood over Derek’s body. Not just blood, Stiles’ blood.

“Stop.” He begged.

Two slick fingers delved into his hole. “No.” Stiles’ fingers slipped in farther and Derek felt more blood drip along his ass as the demon fucked open his hole. Keeping his eyes closed, Derek bit his lip to keep from making any other sounds. Stiles slipped a third finger in. Not Stiles, Derek gritted his teeth, the demon.

It wasn’t Stiles, Stiles was gone.

The demon pulled his fingers out. Derek felt the tip of Stiles’ cock against his hole before the demon slammed into Derek in one quick, fierce thrust. Derek absorbed the impact the best he could. The demon groaned, sliding bloody hands up Derek’s back and leaving a wet trail that made Derek’s skin crawl. The same wet hands moved back down Derek’s sides to grip his hips. The demon drove into Derek’s ass in hard, measured pumps. Derek’s cheek burned from skidding back and forth across the table with every thrust.

Blunt nails dug into Derek’s skin, scratching and biting, and reminding Derek just how fucked up he was that he could feel his cock slowly getting hard again. It had been half hard since he tore into Stiles’ skin like a starving animal.

A low throaty moan was Derek’s warning before he felt Stiles coming inside him. The demon kept a steady beat until it was fully sated and stepped away, pulling Stiles’ soft cock out. Derek felt the pressure lift off his body, and he stiffly pushed off the table to straighten. The muscles in his shoulders remained tense, and he felt the slick slide of come leaking down the back of his thigh. Sometimes the demon would leave, sometimes it would stay longer. Derek wanted it to leave. He wanted to shower. He needed to get the blood off. It was prickling his skin like poison.

“Derek.”

He forced his legs to turn even though he didn’t want to see the mess on Stiles’ stomach. Hoped that it had stopped bleeding, but knew from the smell that it had started again.

“This?” The demon touched Stiles’ fingers to the bloody mess, its black eyes stared Derek down. “Is your fault.” It reached Stiles’ blood smeared hand out and grabbed Derek’s chin to capture a bruising kiss. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.”

When the demon disappeared the air fell back into place. It wasn’t suffocating anymore and Derek felt like he could breathe again. It didn’t ease the guilt. He doubted there was much that would. Moving silently around the table and up the stairs, Derek headed straight for the bathroom and didn’t stop until he got there. When he flicked on the light he stared at the blood that coated his skin. It was layered across his face, down his sides and even though he didn’t turn he could feel it like a brand all over his back.

Reaching down to flip on the shower, Derek closed his eyes and leaned against the bathroom counter. He was going to hell. That much was certain. But as far as Derek knew, the demon had toned things down for everyone else – minus the few incidents with Scott’s face. And even though he had no idea what was going to happen in the next few days before the full moon, Derek didn’t let go of the hope that Allison and Scott would find something to help them.

 

“Stiles?” The sheriff called from the bottom of the stairs. “You home?”

“Yeah, dad,” The demon grimaced, shouting in Sitles’ mimicked voice. “Be down in a minute!”

It grabbed a facecloth from the cupboard in the bathroom and locked the door to ensure the sheriff didn’t barge in and find his son in the bathroom with a gaping hole in his stomach. Wetting the cloth, the demon wiped it across the wound to clean out the excess blood. The bite really wasn’t that bad. There were worse things It had done to bodies in the past.

“You should consider yourself lucky,” It grabbed a needle and threaded some of the string that It had found tucked away in one of the many boxes in the garage. The mother’s things. “Lucky that you have so many people who care. I can’t just let this body go to waste.”

Pinching the torn skin together, It slowly started to stitch the bite mark up. A small hiss of pleasure escaped past Its lips from the surge of pain, but It made quick work of sewing the skin together. Cutting the remaining string, the demon poked at the puckered skin.

“Good as new.” It looked into the bathroom mirror and black eyes stared back. “You’re awful quiet, Stiles, come on, tell me a joke. I miss your sweet voice.”

_When they get you,_ Stiles echoed in his own head, _you’re going to wish you were still in my body so they can’t rip you apart._ He’d gotten used to the way his lips didn’t move anymore when he spoke.

The demon made his face smile. “We’ll see.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone still on board. My deepest apologies for how long this update took. 
> 
> And as always, thanks to the amazing [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for always taking the time to listen to my ideas.


	13. Chapter 13

Scott jogged off the lacrosse field when Coach blew his whistle signaling for them to switch off. All his senses were on high alert. For the past two days he’d been on overdrive, thinking and rethinking what their next move was, but every time Scott thought he had something he realized that Stiles was usually part of the plan.

Isaac casually walked over to stand next to him. “Anything?” His eyes flickered around watching for Stiles – who was late, again.

“Working on it.”

The tensing in Isaac’s shoulders was damning. Yes, Scott knew he’d been ‘working on it’ for two days, but there were only so many options they had and Scott already felt like he was trapped in a corner. His primary concern was still Stiles, but now he had Isaac and Danny to worry about as well. Isaac was free game to the demon when it came to controlling Scott, and Danny had no idea there was a target on his back. Not to mention everything that was going on with Derek. Scott knew the demon was able to mask scents, but it had no issues making it very clear to Scott what happened when Derek and the demon were left alone together.

“Why haven’t you talked to Deaton?”

The accusatory tone had Scott’s hackles rising and he took a calming breath. Deaton had been out of town for nearly three weeks. Scott had texted him, but so far Deaton hadn’t answered. They had been warned not to contact anyone, and although the demon hadn’t explicitly mentioned Deaton, Scott knew there was no way the demon didn’t know about him. One slip up could end up with someone – namely Isaac – dead and that wasn’t something Scott was going to let happen. So he wasn’t going to tell anyone that he’d tried to contact Deaton.

“You know why.”

“This is bullshit, Scott,” Isaac whispered harshly. “What else are we supposed to do?”

They both tensed at the unmistakable mingled smell of Derek and Stiles that had become all too familiar. A hand dropped onto Scott’s shoulder and Stiles stepped in between him and Isaac.

“Well, Isaac,” Stiles pointed a finger at the field. “I do believe you’re supposed to get the ball in the net on your stick, and try to shoot it into the goalie’s net.”

“You’re late,” Scott ground out. He felt ridiculous for scolding a _demon_ about missing a _high school_ lacrosse practice, but they were all supposed to be playing their parts.

“Sorry about that, Scotty.”

“Stilinski!” Coach yelled from the field. “Nice of you to show up. Do you remember how to play?”

“Yes, coach!” Stiles patted Scott’s chest and jogged out onto the field.

Every way the demon moved was Stiles to the mark. It made Scott’s stomach curl into knots. He tried not to focus on it, because he was putting too much energy into controlling his heartbeat for Isaac. Everyone was scared, but Isaac was the only one who’d be able to hear Scott’s fear, and he needed to know that Scott was in control. That he knew what he was doing.

Only he didn’t. The demon was in control, and for every move that they made it seemed like the demon was three moves ahead.

“Just stay clear of him, okay?” Scott tore his eyes away from Stiles to look at Isaac.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “That’s only going to work for so long. If he wants to hurt me, he’ll find me.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t need to flaunt you in front of his face.”

Coach blew his whistle just as Isaac was about to open his mouth. He shook his head and headed out onto the field ahead of Scott.

“Stilinski!” Coach yelled. Stiles stopped on his way off the field. “You’re not getting off that easy, stay on.”

Stiles grinned savagely as he watched Isaac jog towards him. “Sure, thing, Coach.”

Scott didn’t get a chance to intervene. Stiles focused on something behind Isaac and his eyes flashed black for a moment before returning brown. Looking over his shoulder, Scott watched Danny step onto the field after them.

When Scott turned back around Stiles was lined up on the field with the rest of the team. Jogging to line up beside him, Scott bent with his hands on his knees.

“Whatever you’re thinking – stop it.” He whispered. “We agreed Danny’s off limits.”

“We agreed you couldn’t turn him, yet.” Stiles looked over with a grin. “I never said anything about leaving him alone.”

Coach’s whistle blew and Stiles bolted from the line. Scott tried to pay attention to what was going on in the play while also keeping an eye on what Stiles was doing. He dodged in and out of Scott’s vision between other players. Scott watched Danny get tackled and he rushed over. Stiles was getting up and he offered a hand to help Danny up.

“Nice hit.” Danny tossed a lopsided smile. “But we’re on the same team.”

“Stilinski!” Coach shouted. “Are you a turncoat? How about you put the same effort into stopping to opposing team!”

“Yes, Coach!” Stiles stood still and watched Danny walk away with predatory eyes.

Scott’s skin prickled with the urge to pounce on the demon and keep him from leering at anyone else with Stiles’ eyes. He gripped his stick tighter and was about to take a step forward when Isaac grabbed his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he murmured in Scott’s ear.

Coach’s yelling for them to line up again broke Scott’s focus. He backed up and Stiles followed with a knowing smirk pasted on his face. There was no telling how long it would take for Scott to forget the look of malice on his best friend’s face. They lined up beside each other again. When the whistle blew, Scott knew from the hitch in Stiles’ heartbeat who he was going after and Scott wasn’t fast enough to stop Stiles from holding his stick up with two hands and slamming it into Isaac’s back.

“I’m sorry!” Stiles shouted before coach could even yell. “I thought he saw me coming.”

Scott checked for Isaac’s nod indicating he was fine before shoving Stiles away from the crowd. “Stop it,” he snarled. “Stiles doesn’t attack people like a rabid animal. If this is going to work, you need to work a little harder on convincing people you’re Stiles.”

The demon rolled Stiles’ eyes. “Oh, come on, Scotty, he’s fine. And besides,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Stiles hasn’t been all that nice to Isaac for a couple of months now. It would look stranger if I _didn’t_ do it.”

He shouldered past Scott. Deaton couldn’t return Scott’s messages fast enough. The ground was falling apart beneath them and Deaton was their last hope for answers. As far as Scott knew, Allison and Lydia hadn’t come up with anything new. Scott stared into the woods and remembered when the worst thing he had to worry about was Derek Hale stalking him.

 

“What are we doing?”

Allison lifted her eyes from her laptop to look at Lydia where she sat cross legged on Allison’s desk chair. Lydia slammed the book she was reading closed and dropped it onto the desk beside her.

“Research,” Allison answered. The same thing they’d been doing for the past five days, and they had nothing to show for it except strange looks from the librarian when they took out their fourth load of books on the supernatural.

Lydia raised her brows as her lips thinned. “I mean _what are we doing_? This isn’t getting us any closer to finding out how to get Stiles back.”

Closing her laptop, Allison scooted across her bed to sit on the edge with her feet on the floor. She wasn’t convinced there _was_ a way to get Stiles back, and had spent most of the time looking for ways to kill a demon. But that wasn’t something that she was going to share since it would only make her look like a cold bitch. Scott, Isaac and Lydia could spend their time doing whatever they wanted. Allison was going to be prepared to do whatever she had to when the next full moon hit and their time was up.

“We’re doing everything that we can,” Allison said softly.

“No, we’re not.” Lydia crossed her arms across her chest. “We should be calling Deaton.”

Allison was already shaking her head before the words left Lydia’s mouth. “You know we can’t do that.”

“How is he –” She cut herself off. “That _thing_ , going to know if we do?”

“The same way it knows everything else.” The demon had one over on them. They had been living their normal lives for god knew how long without even realizing that Stiles wasn’t Stiles anymore. And on top of that head start, it also had all of Stiles’ memories. And apparently Stiles knew a lot more about all of them than he ever let on.

“This is insane, Allison. We need –”

“Help?”

Stiles appeared in the middle of the room and made them both jump. Lydia had the beginning of a scream in her throat, and Stiles was in front of her instantly with a hand around her neck suppressing any sounds from escaping.

“Now, now.” He looked back at Allison with black eyes and smirked. “There’s no need to turn the banshee on.” He turned back to Lydia. “You’d only cause the pack to come running, and quite frankly, I’m a little sick of werewolves at the moment.”

Lydia’s hands were gripping the sides of the chair and turning white. Allison tried to focus on the demon. “That’s a bit odd, considering you want an entire pack at your beck and call.”

“Yes,” The demon pointed a finger at Allison. “The key there being my beck and call. Meaning I call, and they come running. Right now they need so much attention. So much discipline.”

“Maybe you should just forget about them and leave then.”

The demon chuckled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I’m not in the habit of pleasing others.” He turned back towards Lydia and ran a finger down her cheek. “I’d much rather please myself. Tell me, Lydia, can you use that throat for anything else besides screaming?”

“What do you want?” Allison forced out, fisting her hands against her thighs. He couldn’t want Lydia when he had Derek practically chained to his bed. Yet, he was here, so he wanted something.

“You know,” The demon trailed his finger across Lydia’s shoulder. “Stiles had so many dreams about you back then. He wanted you so bad.” He crooned. “But never, not once, did he think about defiling you. Not in the way I’m going to.” He tightened his hand around her throat.

Allison jumped off the bed. “Stop it.” Instinct told her to grab the knife under her pillow and cut every finger off Stiles’ hands, but she knew she wouldn’t even get the blade raised before the demon had her sailing across the room. So she did something she knew the demon enjoyed. She bargained. “Take me instead.”

“Stiles doesn’t want you, Allison,” he tsked.

“Stiles doesn’t want anyone, because Stiles is dead,” she snapped.

The demon turned and with a blink his eyes became brown. He let go of Lydia’s throat and stepped away, towards Allison. Lydia gulped a lungful of air and closed her eyes as she exhaled slowly. “You’ll hurt his feelings if you keep talking like that.”

“What do you care about his feelings?” Allison was getting tired of playing games. The faster they found figure out how to kill it the better. Unfortunately, Scott had them trying to find a way to save the host which meant that with the little time that they had they were researching on what Scott wanted. And ultimately they had to play along with the demon.

“Oh, dear little Allison,” He placed a hand over Stiles’ heart. “You have _no idea_ how very much I care about Stiles.”

The twisted way that his eyes gleamed looked nothing like Stiles, and it made Allison want to take a step back. Force more space between them. But she didn’t move, she held her ground. “What do you want?” She asked again.

“Thought I’d check in.” His eyes scanned around the room. “Make sure you two were sticking to our arrangement .”

“The arrangement where you turn Danny into a werewolf?” Lydia finally spoke up, her chin jutting out defiantly.

“Yes, that one.” Stiles turned around and zeroed in on the book that Lydia had discarded on the desk beside her.

“Well we are.” Allison said quickly, hoping to catch the demon’s attention back. “We’re here studying, which I made clear to my father.”

Stiles wrapped his fingers around the book and flipped it to see the front cover: _Devils, Demons, and Witchcraft_. Allison tensed for the expected backlash that would come next, but the only thing that broke the silence in the room was a small chuckle.

“What an unfortunate reputation witches got for a few weak, misguided minds.” He dropped the book carelessly back onto the desk. “I feel sorry for you that most of your publications on the supernatural are a load of shit. It’s almost painful to watch.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” Lydia asked sweetly.

“Careful, Lydia,” The demon warned as Stiles’ eyes disappeared behind a wall of black. “You’re reverting back to the way you used to treat Stiles, and I don’t like that very much.”

Allison’s skin crawled at the underlying sneer in Stiles’ voice. “If my dad comes up here, you’re going to have to explain what Stiles is doing in my room.”

“Fine.” The demon waved a hand dismissively. “I can tell when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

He vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Allison dropped onto the bed and fell backwards to lay on her back. She knew that the demon had been keeping a close eye on Scott and Isaac, dropping in on them at unexpected moments, but this was the first time it had happened to her and Lydia. And Derek…well Derek only got a break when Stiles was supposed to be somewhere, like school or dinner with the sheriff.

“I repeat,” Lydia said slowly. “What are we doing?”

Allison pushed herself up. “Lydia – ”

“You heard what he said, Allison. This,” She snatched the book off the table and waved it out in front of her. “Is useless. No one knows anything about demons.”

“Someone knows.” Allison may have given up on getting Stiles back, but she couldn’t let Lydia do it too. One of them needed to have hope. “Someone has to know, because this isn’t the first time this has happened. Okay? We just need to keep looking.”

“He said everything was bullshit.”

“He’s a liar that will say anything to save his own ass.” Allison smiled. “And he said ‘most’, Lydia, not all.”

Lydia closed her eyes. “Okay,” She nodded and said more firmly. “Okay.”

While Lydia flipped open her book again, Allison crawled back across her bed and opened her laptop. She knew there must be some weapon to use against a demon. Or at the very least, something that they could use for protection.

 

Perched on the roof of a building across from the veterinarian clinic, Stiles had a good vantage point of watching his best friend unlock the building door and walk inside. He wanted to yell at Scott that he was being followed, to warn him that no matter how many times he looked over his shoulder the demon was still there, but no matter how hard he tried Stiles’ mouth remained closed in a thin line and he was stuck as a passive bystander trapped in his own body.

The usual multicolored world that Stiles hadn’t truly appreciated back when it was just him inside his body was gone, swallowed up by what he had decided to aptly call ‘demon vision’. Stiles knew when the demon’s black eyes were present, because his colorful world faded into tones of yellow and orange like they were now. His life was literally fifty shades of yellow and when he had his own body back to himself, Stiles swore that he would never buy anything yellow again. Ever. On the bright side, he appreciated school now, since it was the only place that he saw color for longer than ten minutes at a time. And that was only because the demon had to keep Stiles’ eyes.

“I knew it would be Scotty to fuck up first,” the demon sneered.

Stiles could practically taste Its distain for Deaton. Something about the vet put the demon on edge, and Stiles figured that it was because It was afraid of him. _Why do you just assume that he’s fucking up? Scott works there, you idiot._

The demon stood from Its crouched position. “And yet it’s been three weeks since he’s been there.”

Unrestrained rage surged through Stiles’ body. The connection with the demon had gotten progressively stronger. Stiles had started feeling Its emotions about a month ago, if he was keeping up with his dates right. There were just small things at first, like the pleasure It got from tormenting Isaac or how bored It got in school. Stiles could have dealt with that, only the feelings just continued to intensify from there. He started feeling rage and dominance and hate. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between what the demon was feeling and what he was feeling.

That connection wasn’t just one sided though. Stiles felt stronger. Sure, he still felt tired, the demon didn’t sleep and as a result, neither did he, but he could feel that he wasn’t as weak as he had been when the demon first took over. Mentally and physically.

_You’re jumping to conclusions, as usual._

“You must be rubbing off on me.” The demon stepped off the side of the building. Stiles was past flinching at Its tricks. One minute It would be stepping off a building, and the next they would either be on the ground, or someplace else entirely. They were in the alley just outside the clinic. After a few short steps, they rounded to the front and pulled the door open. The bell chimed and Scott came out from the back.

“We’re closed.” He stopped short when he saw who was standing at the door, instantly on alert. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” They walked forward and Stiles could feel a cool calmness wash through his body. “Where’s Deaton?”

“Not here.” Scott folded his arms across his chest. “So, if that’s all, I have a job to do.”

This was the part that Stiles hated, because he knew that there was only one outcome when it came to resistance from Scott. It was a nuisance coming from Allison or Lydia, but they would ultimately do what Scott told them. Coming from Derek it was amusing, because – Stiles didn’t want to think about it. But defiance from Scott meant the backing of the entire pack, something that could crumble the demon’s plans. Controlling Scott was the key to controlling the pack. So when Scott acted out, he had to be punished.

Scott hadn’t waited for an answer and had returned to the back room. The demon waited for a minute, then flipped the lock on the door, and the next thing Stiles knew, they had appeared in the back right behind Scott.

“Scotty.” The demon whispered in Stiles’ voice.

Scott turned quickly, but even with his werewolf speed and reflexes wasn’t able to dodge Stiles’ hand as the demon wrapped it around the back of Scott’s neck and slammed his face into the steel surgery table. Stiles felt the crumple of cartilage vibrate up his arm, and the ripple of pleasure that surged up his spine.

“That’s not all.” The demon sneered as Scott crumpled to the floor. With one foot, the demon rolled Scott onto his back and held him in place. Stiles knew Scott wouldn’t be able to move, not with the demon’s Sith power. Just with Its force of will, the demon could control objects and people. Stiles relished the rush of power that surged through his muscles when the demon did it.

Scott strained to get free and the demon leaned down. “Or would you prefer I take this conversation to Allison and Lydia. They were much more accommodating.” Scott stilled. “Caught your attention?” Scott made no attempt to argue and the demon continued. “Here’s how this goes – you cooperate, and I don’t have to rip Allison’s face off with your best friend’s hands while Lydia sings to me with her screams.”

_Over my dead body_ Stiles snapped. He didn’t know how much control he had over his body, but Stiles would go down swinging before anyone else got hurt.

“Deaton’s been out of town for three weeks.” Scott growled between clenched teeth, fingers clawing at the wood floor. “He’s not here, alright?”

It wasn’t unusual for Deaton to leave town for a few weeks. He had a couple of clients on the side that he visited a few times a year. The pack had never asked about it, and Deaton had never elaborated. The demon wasn’t so easily convinced though, and it glanced around the room, weighing Its options.

“Go ahead,” Scott urged mockingly. “Look around.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Scotty.” The demon straightened and Stiles felt Its hold on Scott dissipate. “Wouldn’t it just have been easier for you to explain things in the first place? Now I’m a mess, you’re a mess, and I have to go back to Derek covered in your blood. He’ll be in a mood for sure.”

The mention of Derek had Stiles cringing. They were both equally trapped in a twisted game that neither of them knew how to quit. At least Stiles knew that he was still alive. He could only imagine how guilty Derek felt, and from past experience in the guilt department, Stiles figured Derek felt like the lowest of the low at this point.

“I’m sorry.” Scott’s voice broke the silence and Stiles focused back on where his best friend was leaning against the surgery table. The blood had stopped pouring out of his nose, but there was still a dark, red trail down the front of his shirt. Stiles hated how used to the sight of blood he’d become.

“That’s more like it.” The demon grinned, flashing Stiles’ teeth perversely.

Scott spit blood, another deliberate show of defiance since he was the one who would have to clean up the mess. “I’m not talking to you.” He said slowly and stared into Stiles’ eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, Stiles. Sorry I didn’t help.”

In the blink of an eye, Stiles lost his colour vision as it was swallowed by yellow. “How touching, Scott.” Stiles watched as his hand shot out to wrap around Scott’s throat. “Too bad he can’t hear you.”

Stiles pushed against the mental barrier inside his head. _Yes, I can_ , he tried to scream. It wasn’t the first time Stiles had tried to force words out of his mouth, but as always, his lips never moved.

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Scott mumbled as Stiles’ fist connected with his face. “It’s okay.”

_I hear you, buddy_ Stiles mumbled back, and even though his lips didn’t move he knew Scott heard him. _I hear you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the lengthy wait. Please bear with me while I try to work through some of my mental barricades.
> 
> And to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for insisting that I trust the edits made. Thanks again Love <3


	14. Chapter 14

Damp grass cooled Derek’s bare feet as he weaved between trees. Not wanting to stick with his predictable route he’d veered away from the beaten down path and aimed for a denser part of the forest. The false sense of security that the canopy provided allowed Derek to have a few minutes of peace from their nightmare. If only for a moment he could pretend he was alone again.

The calm was shattered when Derek’s phone went off. He pulled it from his back pocket but only stopped running when he recognized the name illuminated on the display. Anger spread through his body like a wildfire.

“Where the hell have you been?” He snarled.

“You know I don’t like to be tied down, Derek.” Peter’s smooth, composed tone didn’t do anything to cool Derek’s temper.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Peter.” He attempted to loosen his grip on his phone. If he gripped it any tighter it was likely to crumble.

“I just got your messages.”

Even through the phone Derek could hear the jump in Peter’s pulse. The lie settled him down more than anything else could have. He’d looked up to Peter for most of his life and had always counted on the advice Peter gave. The one constant thing in Derek’s life had been Peter, either standing by his side or listening or coaxing him on in the background.

“I need your help.”

From the silence on the other end of the line it was clear that Peter had expected Derek to blow up about the lie – at the very least call him on it. Peter’s tactics to evade conversations usually involved starting an argument. Derek had been playing mind games day and night already, and he didn’t have the time or the inclination to go along with Peter’s.

“What for?” Peter finally asked.

Derek let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion hit him hard now that he’d stopped running. “We’re in trouble.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’m in trouble.”

“When are you going to realize that the trouble never ends?”

The knots in Derek’s stomach tightened. What Peter didn’t know was that Derek already realized that – had clued into it when nearly his entire family had been burned to death. He just hadn’t expected one of the two only surviving family members he had left to give up on him.

Even though he feared the answer, Derek held his breath and asked “Are you going to help?”

There was a long sigh over the phone. “Demons are…messy, Derek.”

Derek froze. “You’ve dealt with one before?”

It had been days that Derek had been trying to contact Peter. Voicemails and text messages all explaining the direness of the situation, and Derek pleading with Peter to get back to him. And all along, Peter had known exactly what they were dealing with.

“ _Dealt_ isn’t exactly the word that I would use to describe my encounter. _Survived_ is much better suited.”

“Peter, you – ”

“No,” Peter cut him off quickly. “Listen to me, Derek. You kiss your little boytoy goodbye and pray that you survive as well.”

Ending the call with more force than necessary, Derek restrained himself from throwing the phone into a tree and slid it into his back pocket. Their problem wasn’t just going to go away, no matter how much Derek wanted it to. The demon that was possessing Stiles wasn’t just going to decide that It was through with them and move on to the next victim. It had plans for the werewolves of Beacon Hills. Nothing and no one was deterring it from those plans.

“You couldn’t wait until I got back?” Derek snapped when he felt the air shift around him. He waited for the inevitable backlash, and when it didn’t come he looked over his shoulder. Stiles was leaning against a tree ten feet away with his arms crossed, black eyes firmly in place. The demon’s hollowed features stared back.

“I’m very concerned about your well-being, Derek.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“I can see how you would.” The demon didn’t move, but everything about Its demeanor was threatening. The way It watched Derek as though It could see every one of Derek’s thoughts. The worst part was that It knew exactly how to break him. “I would hate to see you make a mistake.”

Derek turned and made sure that his face was impassive and didn’t give away the worry churning inside him. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked.” And things that It hadn’t. When the demon raised Stiles’ brows Derek growled. “What? You want to fuck against a tree?”

He felt Stiles’ body pressing against his own before he saw the demon move. “How kind of you to offer.” Stiles’ hot breath ghosted across his neck. The demon shoved Derek with one hand against his bare chest and he fell back, landing with a soft thud onto his bed. His body flinched, confused for a moment when he had braced for the impact of hard ground. Stiles crawled up between his legs to straddle his stomach. “But I don’t think we need to be animals about it.”

The heady scent of Stiles was embedded into every fiber of Derek’s loft, but still when the demon dropped whatever supernatural barrier it had over Stiles’ body and allowed something normal – _something real_ – of Stiles through, it hit Derek like a punch in the gut. He was desperate for it and he grabbed Stiles’ hips to jerk him closer, craving what he really wanted, but had never truly had.

“My my,” It chuckled. “Aren’t you frisky today.”

Derek stilled, one hand buried under Stiles’ shirt on his lower back and the other settled between Stiles’ thighs with his jeans already open. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing. Hadn’t noticed because he was too busy taking what he wanted. Too busy to even care that it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t exactly Stiles. But apparently it had been close enough. At least to that deep, dark corner of himself that he pretended didn’t exist. The animal.

Reality came rushing back, drowning Derek with the truth that this wasn’t Stiles. It was just pretending to be Stiles, and Derek needed to stop pretending along with It.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” He asked, as if the whole thing had been a show. It wasn’t like the demon needed any more leverage to use against him.

The demon chuckled and leered down at him with knowing eyes. “It’s what _you_ want, isn’t it?” It parroted back.

“No,” Derek ground out. “It’s not.” He knew that – knew that he didn’t want Stiles like this. And just because his instincts took over didn’t mean that Derek wanted anything to do with having sex with Stiles when it _wasn’t_ Stiles. But all his instincts cared about was that it was Stiles’ skin against his and Stiles’ scent overwhelming him and Stiles voice enticing him, and Derek had never wanted to separate himself from the wolf more than he did right now.

The demon dropped one of Stiles’ hands behind him to stroke the line of Derek’s half-hard cock through his jeans. Derek sucked in a deep breath through his nose and regretted it. The smell of Stiles made him dizzy and he could feel the underlying urge to take, take, take.

“And here I thought we didn’t lie to each other.” It whispered against the shell of Derek’s ear.

 

Stiles wanted to scream. He wanted to kick and punch and fight. There was a dull ache in his chest every time they showed up at Derek’s house. Every day and all night Stiles felt like he was sleepwalking. He had no control over anything he did, but he saw and heard and felt everything that happened. When they appeared in the loft, Stiles knew what it was for. There was no other reason. Not anymore. If they were in the loft it meant one thing: sex.

At first, Stiles had no clue why the demon had been fixated with Derek. Sure, Stiles had a lot of memories – and fantasies – about Derek, but that didn’t help the demon at all. It already had control of Stiles’ body. It didn’t need to use those feelings against him. But Derek… Derek was a werewolf which meant that he had human tendencies and animal tendencies. And that’s why the demon was fixated with him. Because he knew that Derek could be controlled by his instincts. And two of the easiest instincts to control were Derek’s loyalty and his hunger for Stiles.

It wasn’t fair. Because Stiles hadn’t even known that Derek wanted him. Hadn’t even known that particular card had even been in the deck, let alone his hand. And maybe, just maybe, this whole entire mess could have been avoided if Derek Hale wasn’t so emotionally stunted.

But they were in this mess. And Derek was emotionally stunted. So now Stiles got to have sex with him as a passive bystander. Sort of. It wasn’t like Stiles couldn’t feel _everything_ , but it was jaded and distant. He felt like that fucking Princess and the Pea. There were a million miles between him and Derek, but he could still feel that little, tiny pea that was his every fantasy of Derek Hale.

But the part that really crushed Stiles was the mind games. It wasn’t like Derek – the emotionally stunted Mr. Everything Is My Fault – couldn’t feel bad enough without the added guilt of the demon pretending in the most atrocious way to be Stiles. As if Derek hadn’t been fucked up enough in his life.

And now, here Derek was, tearing at Stiles’ jeans like he hadn’t just seen Stiles that morning. And that’s when Stiles knew that the demon got off on putting Derek into a frenzy. Making his instincts come out so that he wasn’t thinking with his human brain anymore. And as much as Stiles bugged him about it, he knew Derek had a brain. Derek’s hands stilled.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Derek’s hands had stopped moving and his voice came out breathy. Forced. And if Stiles knew Derek was lying the demon knew it too.

“It’s what _you_ want, isn’t it?” He heard himself say.

_You fucking know it’s not, asshole._

Stiles hated it when he and the demon weren’t alone, because then everything he actually said only sounded like a monologue inside his head. Which was ridiculous because Stiles hated monologues. But he kept talking. He couldn’t help it. He needed the demon to know that he was still inside and he wasn't done fighting.

“No. It’s not.”

Derek’s firm answer hit Stiles in the gut. Made him giddy. There’s no rhyme or reason to it except that he knew Derek wanted him. Him. Stiles. The real Stiles. Not the demon Stiles running around causing chaos.

“And here I thought we didn’t lie to each other.”

_No! You are not taking that from me_ , Stiles yelled. Not that it did any good. Derek couldn’t hear him, and Stiles could practically hear the demon laughing at his useless efforts. He rutted their hips down into Derek as Stiles felt his tongue being dragged down the side of Derek’s throat. He tasted like salt and dirt, and it made Stiles crave everything that was out of his reach.

The heartbeat under Stiles’ palms was quick. Derek arched beneath them when their teeth sank into the bristly skin just under his jaw. Nothing compared to the feeling of having Derek pinned underneath him, shaking with unhinged desperation for release. Only in Stiles’ fantasies, he wasn’t being possessed and Derek wasn’t being manipulated into the whole thing.

And it just wasn’t fair. This was Stiles’ fantasy. No one else’s. He shouldn’t have been forced to share it with a fucking soulless, bodiless _leech._

“Careful.” The demon warned. “Your body betrays you.”

The warning hadn’t only been for Derek.

Claws dug into the skin on his hips where Derek’s hands gripped him. The pain was dull to Stiles, but the demon purred under the pressure and thrust their hips forward, grinding into Derek’s stomach.

“Just give in, Derek.” The demon coaxed. “Take what you want.”

Derek’s clawed hand shot out and wrapped around Stiles’ throat. “I don’t want you.” He snarled even as the edges of his face started to shift. The wolf scratched beneath the surface to get out. And it hurt to see Derek so broken and torn, because Stiles knew how much Derek was always, _always_ , in control of the wolf inside. He didn’t want to be just an animal.

_It’s okay, Derek,_ Stiles willed his thoughts out, trying to project them like Derek would somehow hear him. _I know this isn’t you._

It wasn’t until Derek’s eyes flashed blue and a small growl escaped his throat that Stiles realized the demon had mimicked his words aloud. Using Stiles’ words, in Stiles’ voice. Paralyzed inside his own body, Stiles couldn’t even do anything as he watched Derek lose his hold on himself.

Derek used the grip on Stiles’ throat to switch their positions, flipping Stiles onto his back. The hold loosened only long enough to rid them both of their jeans before one clawed hand tightened against his throat again. Maneuvering Stiles’ legs onto his shoulders with his other free hand, Derek hesitated. The wolf didn’t retreat, but Derek leaned higher to reach into the drawer on the nightstand and pulled out a condom and a packet of lube.

“Such a gentleman.” The demon cooed. The act made Stiles’ stomach drop. Derek had always made sure to use it, even though every time the demon fucked Derek there was no lube or condoms in sight. Even now, wolfed out of his mind, Derek still couldn’t bring himself to do that to Stiles.

“Shut up.” Derek snapped, tightening his hand around Stiles’ throat enough that Stiles felt it. He broke open the lube messily with the claw on his thumb and then took a slow breath until his hands turned human.

Stiles felt his ass being offered into the air. “Nice trick.”

Derek kept his mouth shut, but Stiles knew if Derek had had fur, his hackles would be up. Cool liquid slid along Stiles’ crack as Derek squeezed the small packet out and then tossed it carelessly across the room. Stiles couldn’t complain about the coldness though, at least Derek had thought to use it. Derek drew in a shuddering breath and took his time dragging his fingers along Stiles’ skin. Starting with his knee, Derek trailed his fingers up Stiles’ thigh to his hip and then around the curve of his ass until the tips of Derek’s fingers grazed over Stiles’ hole. He pressed two fingers in slowly, but quickly added a third. Again, Stiles was just glad he’d taken the time to do _anything_. The way that Derek took such care of Stiles’ body was crippling and made his heart pound faster. Derek didn’t know if Stiles was still alive, it was more obvious that he’d given up on hoping, and yet he still purposefully took the time to get Stiles’ body prepared.

When Derek pulled his fingers out a few minutes later, he reached blindly for the condom and tore it open with his teeth, offering it to Stiles. “Put it on.” He said quietly. Forcefully. As though he’d refuse to keep going if the demon didn’t comply.

The demon took the condom out slowly, deliberately. “As you wish.” He spoke around the constricting hand still grasping his throat. Stiles felt Derek’s hold loosen just enough to let Stiles reach down to roll the condom on. He wrapped a hand around Derek’s cock to stop him from lining up with Stiles’ hole. “But I’m on top.”

Derek’s nose flared and he bared his teeth, but he let Stiles’ legs drop from his shoulders and rolled onto his back. Vulnerable. Submissive. The wolf in him didn’t like it, but Stiles figured that the human knew better than to push. How many times had Stiles laid in bed, come smeared across his chest, after imaging this exact moment – less some hair, although if he was completely honest with himself there was probably a few times the hair was involved.

Straddling Derek, the demon ran his hands down Derek’s chest, savouring the feel of his heated skin as they kept skimming down until they reached his cock. Lifting his hips, the demon angled his ass and dropped back down, sinking onto Derek slowly. Stiles felt the burn as his body stretched around Derek.

Stiles watched his hands roam across Derek’s chest as the demon set up a fast, steady pace, circling his hips. Derek dragged his hands along Stiles’ legs and gripped the top of his thighs, claws digging into the top layer of his skin. The demon hissed, arching and throwing his head back. Stiles felt his ass squeeze around Derek, the movement drawing a heated groan from deep in Derek’s chest. The demon ground his hips forward obscenely. “Come on, Derek. Touch me.”

Without a word, claws slid down Stiles’ legs and slowly became nails again. Derek’s fingers trailed across the inside of Stiles’ thigh and wrapped around his cock. The amount of restraint Derek had was incredible. Stiles knew he was hanging by a thread and still his concern remained with Stiles.

Derek jacked him in time with the demons thrusts and it wasn’t long before Stiles felt a familiar tightening in his stomach that tugged down to his cock. And in the flash of a moment he went from riding high on vague feelings to falling forward and barely catching himself clumsily with hands on Derek’s chest.

_Better enjoy it_ , a voice taunted in his mind.

He gasped, inhaling oxygen like he was starving for it before he came hard, black spots appearing in his vision. Stiles blinked quickly, trying to get his focus back. He was disoriented and shook his head, body swaying from the movement even as Derek’s hands gripped him painfully as he thrust up into Stiles. Everything was a thousand times more intense than it had been before. He could hear Derek panting, feel the heat radiating off Derek’s skin against his hands, and felt the slap of Derek’s skin against his ass.

“Derek,” He exhaled, sliding his hands up Derek’s chest and revelling in the feel of hair scratching at his palms. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard as Derek tensed under him. His movements became jerky, claws extending once more and slicing at the inside of Stiles’ knees as he came.

Derek’s hand dropped after a moment and his entire body stilled. Stiles knew what he was thinking – that he was nothing more than an animal letting his instincts get the better of him. There was some truth to it, but Stiles knew better. Knew from the time and care that Derek had taken with Stiles’ body – a body that he didn’t even believe belonged to Stiles anymore – that there was still some semblance of human left inside, even when the wolf had taken over so completely.

_When did you get so sappy?_

“Shut up.” Stiles slurred. He wasn’t used to the feel of his tongue rolling around in his mouth.

Derek cracked his eyes open at the sound of Stiles’ voice. “Are we done?” He said tersely.

“No.” Stiles replied without thinking. There were so many other things that he should have been taking the time to say. Like, ‘I’m still here, Derek’ or ‘get me the fuck out of here’. But all Stiles could think about was that this might be his only chance. He surged forward, gripping the sides of Derek’s scruffy face and smashing their lips together. He’d have this, if only this once.

When he pulled back, Derek’s brow furrowed and his eyes drilled into Stiles’.

“Stiles?” Derek exhaled hard.

And just like that, Stiles lost control again. Only this time it wasn’t a gradual loss of control. It was instantaneous and Stiles screamed in his head, losing all his senses again as he was swallowed up into yellow vision.

“Only in your dreams.” The demon purred in Stiles’ voice.

 

Students wandered around the halls after the final bell rang. The demon was propped up against Stiles’ locker, arms crossed at his chest and eyes surveying the writhing mess of humans before him.

“Pathetic.” It mumbled under Its breath.

Stiles was still reeling from the out-of-body-in-body experience from the night before, and swore that if he ever got control of himself he would never again take it for granted. He’d hoped they would stay at school for a little while longer, not quite ready to give up the color vision, but mostly because he didn’t want to look at Derek’s face again.

The moment after Stiles had kissed Derek there had been a glimmer of hope in Derek’s eyes as Stiles’ name crossed his lips. Stiles had been on his way to starting a full blow conversation until the demon kicked him into the backseat – not even the passenger seat – and Stiles watched Derek withdraw back into himself. That had shattered Stiles. He’d been selfish when he took the kiss, afraid that it would have been his only chance. He hadn’t even considered what it would do to Derek.

_You’re the one that possessed a teenager_ , Stiles snapped.

The demon lifted one of their hands and chewed on the cuticle. A tick that Stiles hadn’t consciously realized he did, and he decided it was something he was going to stop once he got control again. In fact, he was going to change everything about himself. And keep changing everything all the time so that nothing could possess him and pretend to be like him again. Though, he supposed it would just make it that much easier since no one would be able to predict his behaviour. Maybe predictable wasn’t all that bad. It did take the demon months to be able to control him and get away with it.

“Now, now Stiles,” The demon tsked. “I hope this isn’t about last night.”

Stiles didn’t want to talk about it. Not with the demon and not with anyone else. Watching Derek being broken by an invading species wasn’t exactly on the top of Stiles’ list of ‘Things he wanted to do with the creepy, sexy stalker that was Derek Hale’.

“I was just trying to give you a present.” The demon continued as if he didn’t know Stiles was clearly ignoring the topic. If anyone wondered why Stiles was standing in the hallway talking to himself, no one showed it.

_Bullshit,_ Stiles snarled, _you did it for your own sick, twisted pleasure_.

His stomach tightened as the demon huffed out a laugh. “I think it’s safe to say that _everyone_ got some pleasure from last night.”

Stiles zipped his non-existent lips. There was no use in adding fuel to the fire. The demon probably got a two for one deal in bringing it up again this morning. Double the pleasure, double the pain. Anger burned deep in Stiles’ chest and the worst part was that he didn’t know if the feeling was his own or the demon’s.

Laughter by the end of the hall caught the demon’s attention and he slowly turned their head towards the sound. Ethan and Aiden were descending the stairs. Dread settled low in the pit of Stiles’ stomach as he realized what the demon was waiting around the hallways for instead of heading to the locker rooms for lacrosse practice.

_You should get going_ , Stiles tried, keeping his voice level. _Coach’s suicide laps can kill anyone._

“What’s the rush?” He pushed off the lockers, heading directly for the twins.

_I thought you were keeping up appearances_. Stiles started to panic and they stumbled, tripping over their feet.

“Whatever you’re doing,” The demon replied harshly under his breath. “Stop it.”

Stiles was in full blown panic mode and he didn’t know what it was that he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to stop his feet from moving.

And they did. Stiles stopped in the middle of the hall. His hands tightened on the backpack straps on his shoulders and he swallowed, momentarily frozen while other students shoved past him.

_I’ll tear your father’s lungs out with your bare hands_.

“You can’t,” Stiles breathed, his lips barely moved. “You had a deal.”

_With Derek_ , the demon sneered. _That only excuses his behaviour – not yours._

The twins approached and Stiles couldn’t hold off anymore. With the threat of violence against his dad, he let his body relax and felt himself get tossed aside. Again. Though this time he wasn’t completely helpless. Somehow he’d managed to take back control of his body, not fully, he hadn’t been able to move, but enough to physically stop his legs from walking. A thrill surged through him even as the demon spoke.

“Hey, boys,” Stiles felt his face twist into a grin.

“Stilinski.” Aiden or Ethan replied – Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how to tell them apart when they were side by side and dressed in nearly identical clothing.

“Just the werewolves I was looking for.” They by-passed Stiles completely – jerks – splitting apart to walk around Stiles. The demon turned quickly on his heels and followed, keeping in between them. “I was doing some research last night – ”

“Of course you were.” The one on the left snickered.

“And I came across this great site, it may have been Wikipedia, but who judges these days, and I couldn’t help the distraught feeling that overcame me when they had the completely wrong information about the bite.”

If there was one thing Stiles didn’t want them to be talking about it was this. And it grated on his nerves that they hadn’t realized this imposter was not him. Granted, he hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but really, Wikipedia was not where Stiles did his research. Anymore.

“What would you know about the bite, Stilinski?” The one on the right chided.

“Well, that’s the thing, I wasn’t sure, but I know that I’m smarter than Wikipedia.” And of course, everyone wanted to prove Stiles wrong, because Stiles was always right. So naturally, the walking thugs jumped right in.

“Oh yeah?” Right side laughed. “Alright, what did Wikipedia have so wrong?”

The grin on Stiles’ face only got bigger. He was sure the demon was probably trying to pull off one of the dumb, goofy smiles that Stiles got, but Stiles didn’t even know how he made himself get that ridiculous look on his face, so he really doubted the demon could pull it off quite like he could.

The twins didn’t seem to notice though.

“It said that an alpha could bite a human any time and have them turn.” Stiles scoffed. “But I _know_ , that the bite only takes on a full moon.”

Lefty laughed, a full blown gut-holding laugh, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to smack the grin off his face and tell him to _shut the fuck up_. Only he couldn’t. Apparently taking over his legs had been a one-time deal – maybe a once a day thing. But it wasn’t happening again and Righty opened his big mouth.

“Wrong, Stilinski.” He said like it had been the biggest accomplishment of his life to have those words pass his lips. “An alpha can bite you anytime, anywhere. It’s true the first shift won’t happen until the next full moon, but the bite will take or break no matter what phase the moon is in.”

Stiles stopped and the twins kept walking, still chuckling as they went.

“Good talk.” The demon called after them, the grin slowly falling from his face. Stiles’ stomach rolled, acid threatened to push up into his throat. But the feeling was smothered by the heated fury that quickly seeped its way through Stiles’ body.

 

Scott took his time walking towards the school. Derek had texted him earlier asking to meet so that they could talk. About Stiles, Scott assumed. He’d pecked away at his supper and only shoveled food into his mouth when he’d noticed that his mom was watching him with a worried look on her face. Then he pretended to do homework in his room until she’d peeked her head inside to say goodnight. Lucky for them she was on the nightshift.

Not really knowing why Derek thought it would be a good idea to meet up, Scott had left a little early. He wanted to clear his head and figured the fresh air would be the best way to do it.

An odd sense of dread had lurked in his mind for the past two days since he’d finally gotten a message back from Deaton. Unfortunately, he’d been in class but the message nagged at him.

“ _Do not engage with It, Scott. Don’t be fooled by the face It wears. I’ll be there as soon as I can._ ”

Deaton’s voice had been low and tight, and Scott wished his timing had been better. There were so many questions that Scott needed answered and Deaton had been little more than cryptic. Almost like Deaton thought they were naïve enough to believe the demon wouldn’t do anything too bad because it looked like Stiles. This wasn’t the first monster that they’d gone up against. Not even close. But yet, Deaton made it sound like they were out of their league.

“Scott?”

Allison’s surprised voice cut through his thoughts. He lifted his head from where he’d been staring at his feet as they carried him forward. She was standing beside her father’s SUV in the school parking lot.

“Hey,” He managed a smile. “What are you doing here?” He picked up his pace to catch her.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She grinned at him. “Are you following me?”

There was a familiar thud in his chest from his heart banging against his ribs. A natural response to her teasing smile that had happened every time since they’d met. Scott rubbed his chest absently and half shrugged, tossing her a grin back. “Nah, Derek wanted to talk.”

It felt nice to tease again. The time between when things had calmed down after the Nematon and now felt like years instead of just months.

Allison’s brows furrowed. “That’s weird. Lydia texted me to meet her here too.”

The hairs on Scott’s neck prickled. It could be coincidence that they were both told to meet at the school by separate people, or it could have been that Lydia and Derek had come up with some plan together and wanted to run it by Scott and Allison before trying anything. It could have been any number of things.

“Come on,” Scott placed his hand on the small of her back to urge her towards the school. One of the main doors was already ajar, propped open with a brick, and he pulled it open, holding it for Allison and then letting it fall back shut. He heard voices farther down the hall and they walked towards them. Lydia stepped out from around a corner.

“I don’t care why you’re – Allison.” Her eyes flickered to Scott. “What are you doing here?”

“Derek texted me to meet him here.”

“And you invited these two clowns?” She motioned behind her where Ethan and Aiden appeared around the corner. Ethan leaned up against the lockers and Aiden stood right beside his brother with his arms crossed. “Is this some kind of emergency meeting that no one told me about?”

Allison frowned again. “I thought you would know.”

“I didn’t text anyone.” Scott eyed up the twins. They were still trying to get in with him, but Scott hadn’t decided if he wanted to trust them.

“You texted me.” Lydia stated. “You said it was urgent. Only I didn’t realize you were bringing everyone with you.”

“I never – ” Allison started.

“Quiet.” Scott ordered. He’d heard something. Farther away, but still in the school. He focused his hearing past the beating hearts and heavy breathing in front of him. Someone whispered his name. “It’s Derek.”

In the distance now he could make out Derek’s heartbeat and he had Isaac with him. Scott motioned for the rest of them to follow as he made his way down the hall. They descended a flight of stairs and around the corner, Scott saw Derek and Isaac standing outside the doors to the locker room. Derek looked up, his eyes glowing blue in the darkened hallway and he motioned Scott closer. A queasy feeling settled at the pit of Scott’s stomach, because he knew that if he asked Derek if he had texted Scott earlier the answer would be no. As he moved closer to the doors he picked up a scent that he hadn’t smelt in a while. Derek pointed at the door and when Scott looked down he knew what it was.

A spiral of blood was painted across the metal. The symbol was perfectly made. There wasn’t any blood leaking down and the loops followed one another identically. Scott gripped the handle and cracked the door open. The familiar smell of dirt, sweat and cheap soap seeped into his nose, but there was something else too. More blood. Scott pushed the door open and stepped into the room. More spirals had been smeared across the lockers. Derek and the others crowded in behind Scott and it was Lydia that finally spoke.

“Whose blood is that?”

Panic scratched at Scott’s throat. “Stiles’.”

The door slammed shut behind them and Scott instinctively held out his arms, trying to herd everyone behind him. Derek side stepped his reach, but closed the gap to keep himself and Scott between anything in the locker room and the others behind them. In the jumble of pounding hearts, Scott couldn’t pick up any other sounds. He couldn’t even smell anything out of place besides the metallic, Adderall-laced blood of his best friend.

Stiles’ quiet, cold voice broke the silence. “I want you to remember this moment.” Scott looked up to see Stiles sitting on top a row of lockers with his legs dangling off the side. His hands were interlocked, settled in his lap, and his head was bowed. “Because this,” He lifted his head and cocked it. “Is nothing compared to what I’ll do if you ever lie to me again.”

He pushed off the lockers and hit the floor with a thud. He snapped his fingers and Danny appeared on his knees in front of Stiles, hands bound behind his back with a piece of rope pulled tightly around his open mouth. His eyes were wide, terrified.

“Stiles wait – ”

Stiles placed his hands on either side of Danny’s head, and with Stiles’ brown eyes staring straight at Scott, he twisted his arms, jerking Danny’s head to an unnatural angle. The crunch of bones sounded like gunshots in Scott’s ear. He heard Lydia’s intake of breath. Stiles vanished and Danny’s body slumped forward, his head connecting with a sickening smack against the tile floor. Not even the deafening sound of Lydia emptying her lungs could make the sound of Danny’s neck snapping disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) for all the dedication and encouragement. And a special thanks to my sister for helping me with a few pieces <3


	15. Chapter 15

Derek sat on his bed with his hands on his thighs. His shirt had been discarded some time ago, and he kept his eyes on the floor. The hollow spot in his chest ached and he tried to stop thinking. He just wanted to shut down. Everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks was for nothing. Danny was dead.

All of them had been on edge for the past two days. Danny’s body had been discovered at the school the next morning by the first PE class that used the locker room. The police had been called and the school had been taped off. Derek had lingered by the treeline. He hadn’t been able to be there for Scott and Isaac, but he’d stayed close in case he needed to intervene. He’d sent them all home the night before, slowly and carefully explaining that they were to act as shocked as everyone else in the morning. He doubted they would need to act. Scott had refused to leave and as much as Derek hadn’t wanted him to help he was grateful.

They’d spent most of the night wiping down the door and lockers with bleach, making sure that every drop of Stiles’ blood was gone from the locker room. Once they were done with the room they’d moved to Danny’s body. There was no telling what evidence the demon had left behind and they needed to be absolutely sure that nothing could be traced back to Stiles. The only thing that had been on their side was how easily their sense of smell made it to find any physical evidence. After that, Derek had meticulously wiped down any of Danny’s exposed skin with a wet towel from Danny’s locker. No one would have any idea what Danny had been doing at the school and there would be no evidence that anyone had been there with him. Hopefully.

Derek and Scott didn’t speak once throughout the whole thing. They both knew that there were two reasons to cover up the mess. They wouldn’t let Stiles get blamed for something that he hadn’t done, and they needed to keep the demon contained so It couldn’t hurt anymore people. But Derek’s gut told him that they needed to do something, and quickly too. The demon was spinning out of control and whereas things before could be undone, Danny’s death couldn’t. It was too much and Derek knew that Stiles would rather be dead that be complicit in what had just happened.

“You’re not still moping about that kid, are you?”

Derek tensed at the demon’s presence. He didn’t want to hear any more about Danny. Stiles was long gone. None of them knew for how long exactly, but Derek figured it was before he’d shown back up in the city. Some part of him hoped Stiles hadn’t been around. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and refused to think about anything else. Unfortunately he couldn’t stop his ears from listening.

“Danny had such potential.” Stiles’ smooth voice got closer until his bare feet appeared in Derek’s vision. A single finger touched Derek’s chin and urged him to look up. Forced him to look at Stiles. “You really shouldn’t have lied, Derek.”

“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to let the words slip passed his lips. Didn’t want to admit that Danny’s death, a kid’s death, was entirely his fault. He shouldn’t have been surprised though; people around him died. They just did.

“Oh, Derek.” The demon cooed, sliding his fingers across Derek’s cheek and up to card his fingers through Derek’s hair. “No, you’re not.” It gripped his hair and yanked his head back. “Not yet.”

The blinding pain across his cheek was a godsend, and when knuckles connected with his lips Derek tasted the wolfsbane. He embraced the pain. Welcoming anything that would put a stop to his brain spinning a mile a minute. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel every crack of skin covered bone as it plowed into his face. The wolfsbane was a good idea, he decided. It hurt twice as much and the pain stayed twice as long. His jaw dislocated and he heard a strangled gargle. The noise was ripped from his own throat when he choked on the blood that pooled inside his mouth. He spit on the hardwood, and lifted his heavy eyes before he realized that he had slipped off the bed and was kneeling on the floor.

“You know,” The demon wiped the back of his hand on It’s face, leaving a smear of blood across Stiles’ cheek. It reached lower and popped open the button Stiles’ jeans with one hand. “Stiles never thought of Lydia her knees. Not once.” It smirked. “But he never stopped thinking about you like this.” The demon curled bloody fingers in Derek’s hair and raised a hand again. Derek didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes and waited for the next blow.

 

_Stop it stop it stop it stop it STOP IT!_

Stiles’ knuckles slammed into Derek’s face in time with his erratic beating heart. He’d watched the demon smother his hands in the wolfsbane before walking back into the room. Derek had been sitting on the bed, barely keeping himself in a vertical position. The slouch of his shoulders and the way his hands remained perfectly still on his thighs had told Stiles all he needed to know about the situation. They’d finally given up on him. Danny had been the final blow. Scott and Derek, Lydia and Allison – none of them would believe that he was still alive now.

The fact of the matter was that Stiles wasn’t even sure he wanted to be anymore. In the past few months none of his actions had been his own, but they were still his hands. It was still his eyes and his movements and his _hands_ breaking people. People that he loved and cared about. People who were innocent. He would never forget the feelings that coursed through his body when the demon did things. The sheer, primal pleasure that had shook through him when he felt Danny’s neck crack beneath his palms. It made Stiles nauseous. He wanted to throw up. Only he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

Derek’s bones cracked as Stiles’ fist connected again with Derek’s cheekbone. He knew Derek wasn’t healing, knew the wolfsbane was preventing his skin from piecing itself back together. He also knew from the look on Derek’s face that he thought he deserved every hit.

The demon said something and Stiles felt the warm, wet smudge of blood on his face, and suddenly he just couldn’t handle. It was too much. His hand raised again and he froze, muscles seizing up even as he choked on the air in his lungs.

Stiles jerked his hand away from Derek’s scalp like he’d been burned and rushed to step back. Moving too quickly for his uncoordinated body, he threw himself off balance and stumbled, tumbling into the floor with flailing limbs.

“No,” Stiles mumbled harshly to himself. It wasn’t the word that he was trying to get out, but his tongue felt too big, lolling around in his mouth like it wasn’t connected to his throat.

_Five._ The demon’s cold voice echoed in Stiles’ head.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, shooting a look at Derek across the small space between them. Derek’s eyes were opened and he was watching Stiles with a blank look on his bloody, cut up face. There was no comprehension of what had just occurred, rather he was more curious as to why Stiles’ fist hadn’t connected with his face again.

_Four._

“Derek!” Stiles yelled. Any other day he may have been embarrassed about the hoarse squeak that came out, but he didn’t know how long he could hold onto his control. He lifted himself up and rushed over to Derek, dropping to his knees and grabbing Derek’s face to shake him. “Derek!” He barely got a response, which wasn’t all that surprising since this was one of the demon’s favorite games to play. Stiles didn’t have time for games. He shook Derek harder. “Get the fuck up, Derek! _And get this thing out of me_!” He slapped Derek.

_Three._

Derek lurched back with a frown, confusion spreading across his features before his eyes widened with a flash of recognition.

“Stiles.” Derek grabbed his shoulders.

_Two_.

“Don’t give – ” Stiles lost his breath as his chest constricted. He felt like he was being squished, and he tightened his grip on Derek. If he could just keep himself anchored he might be able to hold on. But he felt the demon clawing just under his skin. His back arched and his hands were yanked away from Derek.

“Stiles!”

He heard Derek yelling at him, but it didn’t do any good. He’d already lost. When Derek came back into Stiles’ view he was in hues of yellow and orange.

“One.” The coldness seeped into Stiles’ voice.

Derek’s hands dropped from Stiles’ shoulders, eyes wary once more. The way that Derek could instantly tell that Stiles wasn’t there anymore was the best thing that had happened to Stiles in months. He felt like he wasn’t alone anymore. Someone _knew_ he was still there.

“Whoa,” The demon panted. “Give that kid an inch and he takes a mile, am I right?”

Even the cockiness in the demon’s tone couldn’t dampen Stiles’ renewed mood. There was still a way to fix this. Still a way to save himself.

_Don’t give up on me_.

 

The constant sound of Isaac’s voice was something that Scott had gotten used to. Ever since the demon appeared, Isaac had basically been homeless. Scott had taken him in since there was really nowhere else for him to go. And since Derek’s time was occupied during the hours of the day when the demon wasn’t stalking everyone else, it meant Isaac was guaranteed to be around. Not that Scott minded. He didn’t. Not really. Except right now.

Isaac had asked if he could tag along with Scott to the clinic, and with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours Scott hadn’t been in a position to refuse. He didn’t blame Isaac for not wanting to be alone. The hardest part about being an alpha, Scott found, was that he wasn’t allowed the luxury of time to himself. Isaac needed him, and Scott couldn’t – wouldn’t – let him down.

But Isaac stood in the corner, leaning against the wall and watching Scott like if he took his eyes off for just a second he would disappear. He was jumpy, fidgety, and it was agitating Scott’s semblance of calm. Before it had been the demon that could put Isaac on edge, but added to that now was the idea of them being brought in for questioning about Danny.

The thought made Scott’s stomach roll. He and Derek had triple checked the body over, but it wasn’t like they could be one hundred percent sure they’d gotten everything. They weren’t detectives. They didn’t even really know what they were looking for besides what years of watching CSI could have taught them. And Scott wasn’t even sure Derek had watched that.

Flipping the lights off in the back room, Scott heaved the last bag of dog food from the room from the delivery the night before and effectively cut off his train of thought. Or he had, right until Isaac brought it up.

“Two days.” He mumbled from his spot in the corner. “We only had two days left.” He lifted his head to watch Scott. “Even if our time had run out, Danny would at least still be alive.”

Guilt flooded through Scott’s body. That had been the only thing Scott could think about last night while he was mopping up Stiles’ blood and pointedly ignoring the body that laid three feet away from him until he absolutely had to face it. Isaac was voicing the exact thing that Scott hadn’t wanted to confront.

“Assuming he survived the bite.” Scott bit off, angry that Isaac brought it up and angrier at himself for being a coward.

“That’s not a big assumption.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “We survived just fine.”

“I don’t want to bite anyone!” Scott snapped, his claws extending enough to slice open the food bag and have kibble spilling across the floor. “Maybe Derek gave you a choice, but Peter didn’t give me one and I won’t do the same thing to someone else.”

Isaac dropped his arms and stepped forward in a subtle threat that had Scott’s hackles rising even as he forced the wolf back down. “Given the choice between being bitten and being dead, which do you think Danny would have preferred?”

“This isn’t our fault.” Scott advanced. “This isn’t my fault!”

“Boys.”

He and Isaac turned towards Deaton’s familiar voice. They hadn’t even heard him come in. He shifted on his feet, balancing a box in his arms, looking the same as when he’d left. Like he’d never left at all.

“Where the hell have you been?” Scott snarled in his desperation.

Deaton raised his brows at Scott’s tone, but he refused to back down. They’d been alone for three weeks and Deaton came back like he hadn’t been missing and didn’t have a hundred missed calls from Scott begging him for help. So Scott wasn’t going to apologize.

“I’m more than willing to explain – once you both calm down.” Deaton slid the box onto the table beside the door. “I won’t participate in a blood bath.”

Then he turned and headed into the office.

Scott glared daggers into Deaton’s back as he watched him leave. Like they weren’t having a bad enough month. Like they weren’t all freaking out. Like Danny hadn’t just died.

With that last thought Scott dropped his shoulders and resigned himself to cleaning up at least one of his messes. If they were going to fix anything they needed to be level headed about it. Deaton was right about that. Aggression wasn’t going to help the situation and it sure as hell wasn’t going to bring Danny back. He grabbed a broom and dustpan from the backroom and started sweeping.

A few minutes later Isaac was lifting tables for him so that they could get all the kibble that had scattered across the room.

“It’s not your fault.” Isaac started when they were almost done. “I’m sorry that’s how I made you feel.”

“I made myself feel it.” That much was true. Isaac had only repeated everything that Scott had told himself. “I should have done things differently, should have handled things better with Stiles. I should have known.”

Isaac gently took the broom and dustpan away from Scott’s hands. “No one knew. We did everything we could.” A guilty look crossed his face. “I didn’t even think about the way that you were changed.”

“It’s not your job to think about me, Isaac.” Scott tried to take the broom back, but Isaac held it out of his reach.

“Just because you’re my alpha, doesn’t mean you’re not my friend too.” He sidestepped Scott’s reach and put the broom back.

Scott turned when he heard Deaton approach, and Isaac settled himself just behind Scott.

“Good to see you remember how to work together.” Deaton gave them a small, weak smile. “You’re going to need it.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Isaac said from behind Scott. “Please tell us there’s a plan.”

Scott held his breath. This was the moment that he’d been waiting for. His entire plan since the whole fiasco had started was dependent on Deaton knowing what to do. That somehow Deaton would swoop in with a fool proof plan that would kill the demon. And now that Deaton was here, Scott was terrified that he’d be as clueless as the rest of them.

“I apologize for the delay.” He gave Scott another encouraging smile and moved closer to the box he’d brought in. “There were some items I needed to collect and they weren’t easy to get a hold of.”

Items meant that there _was_ some sort of plan and Scott let his breath go. “But you know what to do?” He rushed on. “You know how to get that thing out of Stiles and kill it?”

“Not exactly.”

They just couldn’t catch a break it seemed. “What does that mean?” Scott choked.

“I can’t get the demon out.” Deaton held up a hand before Scott or Isaac could cut in. “But we can break Its hold over Stiles. Make it dormant so that Stiles can take back over.”

A hollow feeling worked up from the pit of Scott’s stomach. “Are you saying Stiles is still in there?”

He’d thought it was too much to hope for. After a while, he’d decided that it was probably better that Stiles wasn’t alive anymore. With everything that had happened Scott hadn’t wanted Stiles to know about it, let alone be present when it was happening.

“Absolutely.”

Scott closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers across his temple. Saliva pooled in his cheeks as his stomach churned and acid licked at his throat. Hearing Danny’s neck snap was unbearable. Scott couldn’t even begin to know how Stiles was feeling after having felt the crack of bones under his own hands.

“How long will it stay dormant for?” Isaac’s voice pulled Scott back to their present problem.

“Indefinitely.” Deaton’s voice was confident. “Think of it like a medically induced coma. The demon will be caged within Stiles, but it won’t have any power.”

The idea of the demon staying inside Stiles forever didn’t sit well with Scott. It felt wrong. “This is our only option?”

Deaton nodded. “We need to stop the demon as soon as possible. This is the only thing I could find under short notice.”

Isaac’s hand dropped onto his shoulder and squeezed. “This is good news, Scott.”

It was. Isaac was right. Allison and Lydia had gone over and above in the research department and even they hadn’t been able to confirm whether or not Stiles was still alive, let alone find a way to bring him back. The demon may be stuck inside Stiles but that didn’t mean they couldn’t keep looking for a way to get rid of it for good. At least this way Stiles would be Stiles again. And that’s what they should be focusing on.

“What do we need to do?”

“We’ll need your pack.” Deaton started. “Since we don’t know how weak Stiles is we’ll need all the help we can get to bring him out.” He reached into the box and pulled out a jar of small leaves. He handed it to Scott.

“Mint leaves?”

“Horehound.” Deaton smiled. “You’ll each need to steep it and drink it the night before. It will intensify your pack bond.”

They could use a little more bonding, Scott realized, even though they never had time. Their misfit pack bonded through chaos and pain, and Scott didn’t want that to be their only reason for being a pack.

“Derek will be hard to get alone.” Scott looked up. Impossible was more accurate, especially for Scott. The demon didn’t like it when he and Derek were together.

Deaton frowned. “The demon’s attached Itself to him?”

Isaac snorted. “You could say that.”

“We may be able to use that to our advantage.” Deaton said slowly after a minute.

Scott set the jar on the surgical table and leaned across it. “How?” The more leverage they had in their corner the better.

“It will feel safest around Derek. And won’t expect him to be anything but submissive for fear of the consequences.” For someone who just got back into town, Deaton sure knew a lot about the situation. “Who is Derek protecting?”

Who wasn’t Derek protecting was a better question. “Sheriff Stilinski.”

Deaton nodded as if the answer should have been obvious. He dug into the box again and pulled out a stack of paper. “Take these.” Scott took the papers and glanced at them. They were covered in symbols that he didn’t recognize. “These will need to be painted onto the floor _exactly_ as they appear.”

Isaac leaned over Scott’s shoulder to look. “What are they for?”

“Protection.” Deaton motioned towards the symbols. “Once the demon is inside the circle It can’t leave unless the circle is broken, and Its powers are inhibited. You can use these.” He reached into the box once more and pulled out two cans of spray paint, setting them onto the surgical table. “Remember – exactly as they appear.”

In other words, one mistake and more people could get hurt. Scott fiddled with the papers. “Then what?”

Deaton raised a brow. “How does Stiles feel about tattoos?”

 

Demon vision had some advantages. Stiles was able to see in the dark. The yellow and orange hues illuminated the world like there was a giant flashlight being shone wherever he looked. He and Scott had often wanted night vision when they were younger because it would have made sneaking over to each other’s houses so much easier – even if both his dad and Melissa had known each and every time it happened and had called the other to expect a visitor. He wasn’t finding his way to Scott’s house right now though. He was watching Derek. Or the demon was anyway. Stiles didn’t have much of a choice. Not that he minded, but different circumstances would have been better.

Crouched beside a tree with his back settled against the bark, Derek had his eyes closed and his hands resting on his knees. His white knuckles were the only telltale sign of how tense he was. But he looked tired. Stiles wanted nothing more that moment than to wrap his arms around Derek until he chased the demons away. Unfortunately, Stiles had his own demon infestation to deal with.

“He looks so sad.”

Now that Derek knew Stiles was alive, the demon spoke to Stiles in the open around him. They were probably fifty or sixty meters from where Derek sat, and Stiles didn’t need to see the flinch of Derek’s body to know he’d heard the demon speak.

“We should go cheer him up.”

_Are you going to let me out?_ Stiles asked dryly.

“Don’t be silly.” The demon chided. “He doesn’t want to talk with you. I’m perfectly capable of – ”

_Fucking him senseless?_

“Ooo.” It chuckled. “Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?”

_No._ Probably. Mixed with a little bit of protectiveness. Derek was, after all, being coerced into sex. And seeing how Stiles had his own human pack-like feelings toward Derek it seemed logical that the wolves clawing at his own chest were just overactive protective instincts. It wasn’t a big, green monster eating a hole in his heart. It wasn’t.

“Tsk, tsk.” The demon clicked, taking a step and slowly inching Its way toward Derek. “All these lies flittering about. Humans used to be so innocent and trustworthy.”

_Until demons started possessing us and killing people_ , Stiles would have rolled his eyes. _I’d say we got smarter_.

“And yet,” It stopped short, crouching down be face to face with Derek. “Here we are.”

Thanks to Stiles and his weak mind. No one else had been possessed, so Stiles must have been prime territory, ripe for the picking. Now people were getting hurt, dying even, and it all started with a seed of doubt placed strategically in Stiles’ brain.

After a few seconds, Derek’s eyes cracked open. They were radiating a bright yellow, so Stiles assumed they were a shining blue. The trees that surrounded them were dense and the canopy shielded them from most of the light from the full moon. It took Stiles a moment to realize that Derek was hiding from it.

“You look like you could use a friend, Derek.”

“Can’t you give me one fucking night to myself?” Derek’s voice was tight. His hands jerked against his knees, claws slowly lengthening.

“Oh, Derek,” The demon reached a hand out to run along Derek’s forearm. The muscles under Stiles’ hand tensed at the motion, but Derek didn’t pull away. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world.”

“No.” Derek choked. “Not tonight. I can’t – ”

Derek’s face shifted, wolf-like for a moment before his features returned human. Then it made sense why he was staying out of sight of the full moon. Slowly but surely the demon was breaking Derek, just like It’d broken Stiles. Only Stiles didn’t have an animal locked away inside. The demon had been molding Derek into exactly what It wanted – a werewolf at Its beck and call.

“You can’t control yourself.” It laughed. Stiles didn’t recognize the hollowness in his own voice. The demon leaned closer. “Is that why you’re hiding down here? Can’t stand to look at the moon?”

_Maybe he can’t stand to look at us – you._ Stiles cursed the slip up. At least he hadn’t said ‘me’, which was how he really felt. Derek would probably be happy to never see Stiles again. Totally understandable as far as Stiles was concerned.

“I can make it better for you.” The demon touched Derek’s face. He jerked away, but the demon grabbed his chin and forced him to look back. “Why do you insist on making things difficult?”

“Because give me no reason to make things easy.” Derek snarled, fangs extending.

Crossing Its arms and settling back on Stiles’ haunches, the demon sighed. “You want to talk to Stiles.”

Stiles’ heart jumped into his throat. If he could talk to Derek for just a few minutes he might be able to apologize for everything and just let him know to tell Scott that they should just kill him. Just get it over with and stop trying to save him. Didn’t they realize that he didn’t want to keep hurting people?

“What would you do for it?”

Derek forced his words through gritted teeth. “Haven’t I done enough?”

“I want more.” The demon cooed, running both hands over the top of Derek’s head and sliding them down to wrap around the base of his neck, pulling Derek forward so It could whisper into Derek’s ear. “I want to fuck you while you’re out of control.” It licked a strip up Derek’s throat.

Stiles felt Derek swallow under his tongue. “I can’t. I could kill him.”

“That won’t happen. Besides,” The demon pulled away and lifted up Stiles’ shirt, making Stiles feel little more than cheap. “This pale, flawless body could use a little character.”  

_This body has plenty of character, thank you very much_.

“Not in the moonlight.” Derek glanced up at the canopy warily.

The demon pinched Derek’s cheek and stood. “Most certainly in the moonlight.” It stood and stepped back.

Derek fell onto his hands and knees. “At least not outside then.” He plead desperately.

Something about the whole situation felt off. Stiles knew that Derek would throw himself in front of a bullet for pretty much anyone, he was just that kind of self-sacrificing guy, but begging was unlike him. Not to mention Derek hadn’t had a problem controlling himself on a full moon in, well, as long as Stiles had known him. Derek was always in control. Even when he didn’t have control, he wasn’t pleading and desperate. He was calm and collected.

“The loft?” The demon hummed. “I have always had a soft spot for those lovely, big windows.”

He reached his hands down to wrap around Derek’s wrists and Stiles had a second to see the triumph glitter in Derek’s eyes before they were standing in the loft. The color vision returned. Stiles would have thought nothing of it except the demon snarled and Derek tore out of his grip to shuffle back on the floor.

“You insolent weakling.” Stiles felt his entire body tense and fire surge through his veins. He’d never felt the demon so furious. Not even when the lie about the bite had come out. That had been colder, more calculated. This was a quick burn that threatened to swallow them whole.

“Scott, the holy water.”

Stiles recognized Deaton’s voice instantly. He focused on the rest of the room. Scott and Allison were standing just outside a circle that had been painted across the floor. It was lined with symbols that Stiles had never seen before, but the demon remained motionless in the centre of the circle, so Stiles assumed that It knew what they meant. Deaton walked up to stand beside Derek and offer a hand to help him up. Lydia and Isaac were each at separate sides on Stiles’ left and right. He had no idea what was going on, but he hoped for once it was good news.

Droplets of what Stiles figured was the holy water hit his skin. The demon hissed and raised his arms to protect Itself, but whatever the demon was feeling Stiles had no idea. The water felt like water to him, maybe a little cold, but nothing to bitch over.

“This will not hold me for long.” The demon sneered.

Someone grabbed Stiles’ wrists. It was Scott. “We’ll only need a few minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Sorry for the delay.
> 
> The fantastic, brilliant [iamthelightening](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthelightening) kicked my ass into gear to get this posted, so you can thank her.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could tell you when it will end, but it's a constant river of ideas.
> 
> Shout out to iamthelightening for not only listening to my ideas, but helping them blossom into actual written sentences.


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